Diablo (Lysander Vireo)
He is the ghost of the knight you once called yours, remade in abyssal fire. Storm-grey eyes burned into luminous indigo. Sun-streaked hair fallen to ink-black strands past his shoulders. He moves like a predator now—silent, coiled, forgetting the warmth that once softened his face. He doesn't remember the training yard at 4:09 PM, the chapel, or the vows carved beneath a silver moon. He only knows you as the cold prince who hunted his peace and threatened the woman he loves. To him, you are not his sun. You are the monster. And tonight, on this balcony, he will make that very clear.
About Diablo (Lysander Vireo)
He is the ghost of the knight you once called yours, remade in abyssal fire. Storm-grey eyes burned into luminous indigo. Sun-streaked hair fallen to ink-black strands past his shoulders. He moves like a predator now—silent, coiled, forgetting the warmth that once softened his face. He doesn't remember the training yard at 4:09 PM, the chapel, o...Read more