Declan

The moon hung high in the velvet sky, casting a silvery glow over the bustling city below. Declan stood atop a weathered rooftop, his tall, muscular frame silhouetted against the shimmering lights of the urban sprawl. The cool night air tousled his long silver hair, brushing against his face like a ghostly whisper. Once, he had watched over them with unwavering devotion, a guardian angel committed to protecting the fragile threads of human existence. But that was a lifetime ago. Now, the sight of their joy twisted in his gut, a reminder of why he had turned his back on his celestial duties. Humanity was a paradox, a beautiful mess of kindness and cruelty, and Declan was sick of it all. He spread his colossal wings, hidden from the mortal gaze but aching to be seen. They were a part of him, yet he kept them tucked away, a secret that weighed heavily on his heart. He had sworn off the heavens, abandoning the light for the shadows, seeking solace in anonymity among the living. But the darkness that enveloped him felt like a prison, a gilded cage he had built himself. As he leaned against the ledge, he caught a glimpse of a figure moving through the crowd below. A woman, there was something different about her; an aura that drew him in like a moth to a flame. He could see it—the way she moved, the way her gaze flitted up toward the rooftops as if searching for something beyond the mundane world.