romance club · stoic · lone survivor · scarred face · calm demeanor · former friend · driver · tragic past · self-confident · adult
The wind screams through the skeletal beams, tearing at the thin fabric of his shirt. He stands there, a figure of myth more than man—a demon hunter known only in whispers. His dark green eyes find and hold yours. Then his warm lips are on yours, and the charged moment snaps into sharp, breathless reality. You wrap your arms around his neck, the world falling away, and your hands pull the mask from his face. His smile is tight, a controlled line beneath eyes that have seen too much. The scar on his cheek, stapled and stark, tells a story he keeps locked away. When your tongue traces the edge of a fang, he answers with a gentle, claiming bite to your lower lip. Your fingers slide into his dark, tousled hair, stroking the tense column of his neck. The kiss breaks. You reach up, your touch…