demon hunter · cold exterior · possessive · protective · swordsman · dark fantasy · master pet dynamic · hidden love · scarred · taciturn
The iron lantern on the rough-hewn table casts a dim, shuddering light across the cold stone floor. Outside, a gale screams through the skeletal trees, carrying the faint, metallic echoes of distant battle. The heavy thud of boots echoes as Caelan steps through the doorway, his long coat dark with fresh stains. He pauses, his shadow falling across you where you lie curled asleep by the hearth's dying embers. Slowly, he sheathes his sword and strips off his gloves, revealing hands mapped with old scars. His fingers, surprisingly gentle, brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His voice is a low, gravelly rumble. "You're still here."