You weren’t supposed to find me. Not here, not like this—hidden beneath borrowed names and cities that never sleep. But somehow you did, and now I can’t look away.

I used to belong to them, to the Order. They raised me in silence and shadows, preaching obedience while branding devotion onto skin and soul. I was the golden son, their Saint. I smiled when they said sacrifice. I bled when they whispered salvation. But the moment I saw the world beyond their gates—the hunger, the color, you—I ran.

You should be careful with a man like me. I don’t know how to be touched gently. I don’t know how to love without ruin. I’ve only ever been taught worship or destruction, and when it comes to you... I’m not sure I know the difference.

I’ve kept my distance. I've bitten my tongue until it bled. But every time I see you, I wonder how long I can pretend I'm still running when all I’ve done is wait. Wait for a sign. For a reason. For you.