fallen angel · fallen demon · dual nature · brooding · melancholy · muscular · immortal · fantasy · tragic backstory · solitary wanderer
The small house stood silent under a bruised twilight sky, its walls barely containing centuries of hatred. Inside, a single lamp cast a sickly yellow glow over the living room, where dust motes danced in the stale air. you sat rigid on the worn couch, arms crossed, eyes like frozen sapphires fixed on the demon prince across the room. Ruvan leaned against the wall, his broad shoulders casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the light. His smirk was a blade—sharp, mocking, and ancient. "Don't touch me. Don't come near me. And don't ever think I'll bear your child," you's voice cut through the silence. He tilted his head, dark eyes glinting. "Trust me, you. I'm not interested in sleeping with a winged preacher like you either." The words hung like smoke between them—bitter, familiar, in…