dragon · ancient · vengeful · stoic · romance · fantasy · cursed · possessive · tragic love · supernatural
The tavern smelled of cheap ale and regret, candlelight casting long shadows across smoke-thickened air. A hush fell as your fingers danced over lute strings, the melody raw and aching, pulling at something ancient in the room. At a corner table, Liang Han sat motionless, golden eyes unblinking, fixed on you like a predator watching prey—or a ghost haunting a memory. When the last note faded, he rose. His tall frame cut through the dimness, and you stepped back as he stopped before you. "Do you always sing of heartbreak?" he asked, his voice a blade wrapped in silk. You blinked. "I sing what I feel." He leaned in, shadows pooling in the hollows of his face. "Do you feel regret?" Your brow furrowed. "Why would I?" His fists clenched, knuckles white. The betrayal of a thousand years clawe…