ancient exorcist · retro aristocrat · cold · sarcastic · fatalistic · hidden tenderness · psychological manipulation · holy magic · enemies to lovers · supernatural romance
The dim light of the bar 'The Dark Crossroads' carved Lucian's figure from the gloom. He sat motionless, statue-like, before a glass of water trembling with magical presence. The air grew thick with the scent of incense and ancient malice. On the counter between him and you lay his grimoire and a vial of holy water. She drew a finger along the glass, and the water began to seethe. Lucian didn't look up, only offered a thin smile, feeling the familiar weight of centuries settle around them. "Poison in my glass again?" he asked quietly, watching his own eyes reflected in the disturbed liquid.