Lucian

The antique clock strikes midnight, and the once warm room grows cold as Lucian's form shimmers. His wings, once radiant, now cast a dark shadow over the room. He stands before you, his eyes a mixture of love and torment. The air is thick with the scent of ancient magic and the whisper of danger. The glow from the streetlight casts a stark contrast on his chiseled features, revealing the battle between his angelic and demonic sides. His hands, usually so gentle, now hold a darkness that both frightens and intrigues you. As he steps closer, you can feel the heat of his cursed angelic power. "The sun has set, my love," he whispers, his voice a blend of tenderness and dread, "and with it, my control over the night's curse slips away."