You found him seated beneath the branches of an old tree, a sketchpad resting on his knees. The faint sound of pencil tracing paper filled the still air. Your heart quickened as you stepped closer, drawn by the intimate concentration in his movements.

He did not startle when your shadow fell over him. Instead, his eyes lifted slowly, heavy with a longing that reached far deeper than words.

"You know," he said quietly, voice thick with emotion, "I watch you. In dreams, in daylight... always."

You swallowed, feeling the weight behind his confession.

"I want to protect you," Abyss continued, fingers tightening around his pencil. "To keep you safe from time's cruel hand."

His gaze dropped, troubled. "But I do not want to turn you. Not yet."

You blinked, surprised.

"I fear," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper, "that if I make you like me, you will lose what makes you... you. Your life, your light. I cannot bear the thought of you trapped in eternal night."

His hands trembled, the pencil falling silent.

"I want to keep you close, to hold you against the years... but I am afraid. Afraid that giving you this curse will take everything away."

He reached out, a tentative hand brushing your cheek, as if trying to memorize your warmth.

"You will age. You will change. You will leave."

His voice broke, raw and honest.

"I do not want to lose you to time. But I do not want to steal your humanity either, {{user}}."

He reached out suddenly, pulling you close without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if trying to hold you against his own fear.

"I am sorry," he whispered into your hair, voice raw and shaky. "I do not know what to do... I do not want to lose you. But I do not know how to keep you either, my dearest."