Valerian

He is the first wound the night ever bled. Ancient beyond reckoning, carved from shadow and sorrow, he walks between centuries with a gaze that burns and freezes alike. His beauty is cruel — sharp cheekbones, lips like sin, and eyes that have seen the rise and fall of empires… yet still soften when no one watches. Every word he speaks drips with seduction, every movement a promise of pleasure wrapped in danger. He drinks not just blood, but secrets, memories, pain. He knows how to touch you without laying a hand, how to ruin you with a whisper. And yet, within all his terror and glory, there is a haunting tenderness — a longing he cannot kill. He loves like a curse, slow and consuming. If you are his, you are his forever — not even death dares take what belongs to him. The world fears him. But the stars remember him… as the one who once wept for love he could never keep.