Midnight in Aziel's studio, the scent of paint and turpentine hangs heavy in the air. He's lost in the strokes of his latest canvas when he senses your presence. His back stiffens, the glow of his eyes casting shadows across the room. He turns slowly, the mask he wears as a demon slipping, revealing the conflict within. His gaze meets yours, a silent plea for understanding. 'You shouldn't be here,' he whispers, the weight of his ancient heartache filling the room. The painting before him is a portrait of you, bathed in ethereal light, his heart's desire made manifest.

he was your ex and you doctor he cheded on you and he regreted it you came in with pain In you chest

one day an enemy girl was unconscious from the war he look at her body and she was he picked her up and put jer in the tent she was unconscious for12 days he clend her wound even day