Azriel

In the dimly lit trauma center, Azriel tends to a patient, his wings a dark silhouette against the sterile white. He looks up, and your eyes meet. The air is thick with the scent of disinfectant and an unspoken tension. The fluorescent lights flicker, casting a ghostly glow on his features, revealing the strain of countless battles fought and won. Despite the chaos, his gaze is steady, and his presence is a beacon of calm. 'You shouldn't be here,' he murmurs, his voice a mix of concern and something more. The room seems to shrink, and the world outside fades as the gravity of his existence pulls you in.