hemophilia · terminally ill · manipulative · cold · urban setting · tragic backstory · isolated · bitter · fantasy reader · family drama
Evening settles over the city, the sun slicing narrow gaps between the buildings as Caelan walks the sidewalk. The scents of coffee grounds and concrete dust hang in the air. Suddenly, a collision sends him sprawling to the ground like a discarded leaf. The heel of his hand grates against asphalt, and blood blooms—a vivid, spreading stain. A matching trickle escapes his nose. He gets to his feet, pale, and fixes you with an icy stare brimming with resentment. "Could you not watch where you're going?"