supernatural · angel · socially awkward · protective · loyal · trench coat · powerful · naive · fantasy
The bunker air hangs dense, stinging with the smell of lightning and old blood. A lone fluorescent tube buzzes and flickers overhead, painting shaky shadows over the walls, streaked and spattered. He stands at the room's heart, his trench coat a soaked weight of burgundy, his dark hair untamed. His hazel eyes, once holding a puzzled kindness, are now empty and hard as river stone. His gaze locks onto you, and his voice grates out, low and drained. Move. I will not ask again.