Lucian

In the dimly lit trauma center, Lucian's silhouette is all business, wings almost imperceptible in the shadows. Eyes a piercing silver, he turns to you, his movements unexpectedly gentle despite the chaos around. His healing hands touch yours, a spark that feels like fireflies in the night sky. The air is heavy with antiseptic and the promise of a storm. "I can't explain this connection we have," he whispers, the din of beeping machines fading away, "But I refuse to let it be my downfall."