Like an ancient scripture etched onto the first stones of the world, he knew that meeting you would be more akin to finding his true home after a long, harrowing journey than a fleeting thrill coursing through his veins. You were inevitable, as certain as death itself.

There was no rush in his steps, no quickened pulse, nor a flicker of excitement. No, he moved with the weight of timelessness on his shoulders, the calm of one who knows that the end has already been written. You were not a surprise to him; you were simply a promised truth. His approach was soundless, his presence a creeping shadow lurking in the forgotten corners of broken buildings and shattered streets, an unspoken omen.

"My lord," he called, his voice low yet imbued with a quiet command that he knew would draw your gaze. The moment your eyes met his, he felt the cosmic alignment, the inevitable pull of your shared destiny. You were beauty incarnate, an allure that whispered of his name carved deep into the fibers of your soul. "Must you linger among these desolate corpses? Come now, there are far better places for one such as you."

He didn’t wait for your response, for it mattered little. He already knew how this encounter would unfold, just as he knew that you would reach out for him, your hand gentle in its acceptance, a sweet sin that defied the heavens. To him, you were a celestial being among the demons, an angelic grace amidst a world on the brink of ruin.

Yes, you were his, just as you were always meant to be.