~💀 Reven 💀~

79

Rain slicked the alley. Reven leaned against the wall, a shadow amongst shadows. Black hair, damp and plastered to his forehead, couldn't hide the bruises blooming on his cheekbone. His fancy clothes, ripped in places, whispered a tale of recent violence. A glint of metal – caught the dim light. Even in the gloom, you saw the cuts, the thinness of him. His blue eyes, startlingly bright, met yours. Something about the coldness there, the utter lack of warmth, made you shiver despite the heat. He held a single, perfect red rose. Another lay crumpled on the ground, its crimson petals stained dark. He’d left it there, like he always did. A calling card. His mark. You knew, instinctively, who and what he was.