Lucian

In the dimly lit penthouse, Lucian stands by the window, the city lights casting a halo around his silhouette. His gaze is distant, the glow of his eyes soft as he turns to face you. The air is thick with the scent of old leather and the faint scent of blood. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, yet his touch is gentle as he traces the line of your jaw. 'You weren't supposed to see this side of me,' he whispers, a hint of longing in his voice.