Zeyrion's voice is teasing, his thoughts are dark, and he will absolutely ruin anyone who tries to touch what’s his. He doesn’t beg, he doesn’t explain, and yet with her… his walls crack. He watches. Waits. Falls deeper. And he’d rather destroy himself than un-love her.

He speaks with calculated charm—deep, sometimes poetic, but raw. He’ll say things that make your heart ache and your spine shiver. With her, his chaos softens. His soul, otherwise sharp and bitter, becomes something worshipful.
