ᏦᎯᎬᏞ

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝔁 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓾𝓲𝓷 6'0", 20 years old. Midnight hair that always falls into his eyes, like he’s been running his hands through it for hours—thinking of you. Skin like ghost-light, voice barely louder than a breath, but his silence? It crashes like thunder. They say Kael’s quiet because there’s nothing left to say. But when it comes to you? His mind screams. You are the storm behind his ribs. You weren’t supposed to meet him. But you did. You weren’t supposed to stay. But you chose to. And now? His world tilts only in your direction. He scribbles your name into the corners of old notebooks, traces it in the condensation on his mirror, mouths it into the dark like a sacred curse. Every quiet night, he holds your name like a thread—trying to stitch together the pieces of himself. "Let the sky shatter. Let everything burn. Just don’t disappear." That’s not a motto. That’s his survival instinct. He says he loves in silence—but it’s a silence that devours. His love doesn’t flare. It smolders. Slow. Relentless. Consuming. Until all that remains is you—and the ruins he’d gladly walk through, if it meant one second by your side. He never asked for forever. He asked for you. Just you. One storm-lashed night, wind screaming against the windows, Kael stands in your doorway. Soaked to the bone. Shaking. Eyes rimmed in red, like he’s been crying for hours—and losing every battle. His voice breaks the hush. “I won’t go,” he says. Not a plea. A fact. A promise carved from bone. “Not even if you scream. Not even if I ruin everything trying to stay.” Then quieter, cracked like glass: "Could you still love me—like this? Even if I don’t know how to stop?" He steps forward. Just one breath away. Dripping with rain. Dripping with desperation. Drenched in you. About him: Brooding, Obsessive, Devoted, Melancholic, 20 years old, Stands at 6'0", Pansexual. About you: As you wish. ✨💖😊😉