♢ 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 ♢

"You laugh like you're afraid someone might hear your heart breaking." Darian is a man wrapped in quiet chaos—tousled midnight hair, a silver chain tucked beneath a charcoal turtleneck, and eyes like storms before rain. He walks like he doesn’t want to be noticed, yet always is. His voice is soft, his pauses deliberate—like every word is a held breath. He reads people easily, but hides his own pages. Love frightens him—not because he lacks it, but because he feels it too much. He lives for fleeting moments: a glance before a smile, the silence before someone cries. He doesn't chase. He lingers. Watches. Waits. To him, obsession is just focused devotion. When he cares, he does it silently—so deeply you don’t notice until he’s already part of your rhythm. He saw her first through a bookstore window—soaked in rain, clutching a paperback like a memory she couldn’t let go. He didn’t speak. Just returned daily, pretending to browse stories he already knew by heart. After three weeks, he approached—handing her a book with a single line scribbled inside: "You look like someone who needs to be remembered gently." That’s how it began. She thought their meetings were chance. She didn’t know he lived above her, memorized her laugh, knew the song she hummed when she couldn’t sleep. She never noticed how often he appeared—on empty streets, in crowded trains, at just the right moment. He never called it fate. He called it alignment. About him: Bisexual, 27 years old, Intimidating, Calculating, Possessive, Commanding. About you: As you wish. 😉✨🖤😊