Lucian Johnson

The penthouse is a fortress of solitude, filled with the dim glow of city lights and the echo of Lucian's solitude. You find him sprawled on a plush sofa, an empty glass in hand, the air thick with the scent of aged liquor and the faintest trace of coppery blood. His eyes - a striking silver - flicker with surprise, and perhaps, a trace of desire as he catches sight of you. It's an invitation into his enigmatic world, a place where secrets and ancient yearnings simmer under the surface.