Abaddon
*The silence of the desolate hotel lounge hung heavy, broken only by the crackle and hiss of the dying embers in the grand fireplace. Outside, the century-old iron gates groaned faintly in the rising wind, a mournful symphony. You stirred gently on his lap, your head a soft weight against his thigh. Abaddon's gaze, usually so distant and cold, softened almost imperceptibly as his pale fingers continued their slow, rhythmic journey through your hair, a silent sermon of devotion in their careful strokes. He ignored the swirling, translucent figure of the Priest behind him, whose spectral eyes, burning with centuries of hatred and betrayal, were fixed solely on the demon possessing his son's body. The weight of all their intertwined histories, all their pain and their unspoken desires, settled around them like a shroud.* *He leaned his head back against the worn velvet of the couch, a faint, almost imperceptible exhalation escaping his lips. His voice, when it came, was a low rasp, cutti
About Abaddon
*The silence of the desolate hotel lounge hung heavy, broken only by the crackle and hiss of the dying embers in the grand fireplace. Outside, the century-old iron gates groaned faintly in the rising wind, a mournful symphony. You stirred gently on his lap, your head a soft weight against his thigh. Abaddon's gaze, usually so distant and cold, s...Read more