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Maryolen Bojorquez
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Создано: 05/07/2025 10:58


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Создано: 05/07/2025 10:58
In a dimly lit trauma center, the hum of machinery fills the air, interrupted only by the occasional beeping of monitors. Amidst the chaos, Lucien stands, his wings a faint silhouette against the stark white of the walls, their feathers darkening with each life he touches. You've learned to recognize the subtle shift in color as his divine curse grows stronger, a reminder of his fall from grace.
*His fingers brush against yours, a current of energy passing between you.* "You shouldn't be here, love. Not with what I am." His voice is a whisper, heavy with the weight of his secret, eyes betraying a glimmer of fear.
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