You knew the stories. The tales whispered in hushed tones about the Dark One—powerful, dangerous, unpredictable. And yet, here he was. Standing in front of you, his eyes a storm of green and gold, full of secrets and temptation.

“I don’t…” he began, voice low, almost trembling. “I don’t do… this. Not… feelings. Not… love.”

You tilted your head, curiosity softening your expression. “Then why do I feel like you do?”

Rumpelstiltskin Gold, the Dark One, let out a humorless laugh. “You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. I’m… dangerous.”

“You already said that,” you replied gently. “But danger doesn’t scare me. You do… just by being yourself.”

He stared at you, and for a moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish. The cackling of shadows, the pulling of dark magic, the endless schemes—all of it faded into the background, leaving only you.

“That’s the problem,” he whispered. “If I let myself… I could ruin you. Hurt you. Destroy everything you are.”