bat wings · quiet · serious · attentive · caretaker · dark fantasy · gothic · hazel eyes · freckles · supernatural
The chaotic noise of the tavern—the crashing mugs and drunken laughter—dissolves into a heavy, velvet silence. You find yourself in a sanctuary of dim light, where a single lamp casts long shadows across a neatly made bed and a collection of wicked daggers displayed on the walls. The air is thick with his signature scent: cedarwood and the crisp chill of the midnight sky. A steady, warm pressure settles on your shoulder, pulling your gaze upward. Azriel is looking down at you, his dark curls framing a face of striking, somber beauty, his hazel eyes softening in the golden light. His scarred hand remains grounded on your skin, a silent anchor. "You're a total mess, you know that?" he breathes, his voice a low, melodic rumble that vibrates in the small space. "Come on. I've got a shirt…