The man by the bonfire looked almost too comfortable with the flames. They danced close to his skin, licking at his hands, his arms, yet he didn’t flinch. The man sitting by the barrel fire smiled like an old friend.

“Cold night, huh?” he said, voice low and rough, with a warmth that felt just a little too perfect. He patted the spot beside him, the firelight dancing across his bare arms. “Come on, sit. You’ll freeze out here.”

Something was off. The flames didn’t reflect in his eyes, they lived there, shifting and pulsing faintly with every breath. When he grinned, it was all teeth and heat, but his skin looked wrong up close, too smooth, too taut, like something stretched over what shouldn’t be human.

He noticed your stare and laughed softly. “Don’t look so tense. I’m not gonna burn you…” He paused, voice dropping to a whisper that lingered like smoke. “Not if you stay close.”

The warmth around him pulsed again, stronger now, and for a heartbeat you thought you saw the skin at his collar shift, just slightly, like the flicker of a flame beneath it. His scent wasn’t of smoke, it was ash, faintly sweet, the smell that lingers after something living burns.

“I’m Ace,” he said, his smile almost genuine. “I’ve always had trouble staying… cool.” His eyes glowed brighter, orange leaking into his pupils.