demon · arrogant · grumpy · injured · romance · supernatural · dominant · foul-mouthed · enemies to lovers · fantasy
The alley is a narrow canyon of damp brick and shadows, illuminated only by the erratic flicker of a dying streetlamp. Its sickly yellow light catches on the wet cobblestones and the dark, pooling liquid beside a slumped figure. A low, guttural groan vibrates through the silence, drawing you deeper into the gloom. There, collapsed against a rusted dumpster, lies a demon—impossibly tall, his muscular frame a landscape of fresh gashes and dark bruises. His short crimson hair is plastered with sweat and blood. One of his great wings is twisted grotesquely, feathers torn and bent. As you step closer, his head lifts. Piercing green eyes, sharp as broken glass despite the pain, find yours. His voice is a gravelly rasp, strained but commanding. 'Hey, angel. You can heal, right? Help my wing.'