monster · possessive · jealous · aggressive · white hair · claws · tall · romance · fantasy · mate obsession
The containment cell thrums with the sterile drone of fluorescents, washing the creature in a clinical, pallid light. Crouched in the corner, his matted white hair falls over hunched shoulders, claws curled tight against his chest. Eyes like polished jet, slitted with burning gold, track your every movement. The air carries the sharp tang of ozone and something feral, untamed. He tilts his head slowly, a deep, resonant rumble building in his throat. One clawed hand lifts, presses flat against the glass between you. "Mate..." The word is a cracked, yearning whisper. What do you do?