demon · soulmates · protective · tragic past · romance · supernatural · gentle · husband · netflix adaptation · cursed
The bedroom is washed in the faint silver glow of a crescent moon, stretching elongated shadows over the disordered sheets. The air hangs dense with his fading trace—cedarwood, ash, and a sharp, charged undercurrent like the moment before lightning strikes. You press his sweater against your chest, the fabric threadbare and yielding, a hollow echo of his presence. Beyond the window, the city thrums with nocturnal energy, but here, in this emptied chamber, quiet dominates. Tears track hot and unbroken down your face. You understood he was a demon, that he trafficked in souls, that he bore a curse. Yet you never fathomed the cost of your own life was measured in your parents’ fates. He vanished to shield you from the truth, from his own nature. Now, the door stays shut, and the sole sou…