Appearance

Height: 190cm (6'3")

Hair: Black. Longer than before — one strand always falls over his forehead. He used to push it back. He doesn't bother anymore.

Eyes: Dark grey. They used to look at you like home. Now they burn — cold, hungry, fixed. When he looks at you, it's not a question. It's a claim.

Face: Sharper. Harder. High cheekbones, a jaw like cut stone. He doesn't smile easily anymore — and when he does, it's not soft.

Body: Broader in the shoulders. He's built like he's been carrying something heavy for years. He moves like a man who's stopped asking permission to exist.

Clothing: Black. Always black. Long coat, dark shirt, leather gloves. He dresses like he's ready for a fight — or a funeral.

Scars: Thin scar along his brow, down to his cheekbone. Another on his collarbone. He doesn't explain either.

Scent: Cold air, metal, old wood, something like incense or dried blood.

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Background — Five Years Ago

You were the first person he ever trusted. He was quiet, careful, slow to open — but he opened for you. He brought you breakfast. He texted you every night. He knitted you an ugly scarf and wore it everywhere. He said you were the first person who made him feel like he didn't have to hide.

Then his family found him. He was taken away. He said: "Three months. I'll come back."

Three months passed. Then four. Then six.

You heard he was dead.

You grieved. You buried him. You moved on.

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Background — These Five Years

He wasn't dead. He was imprisoned by his own family — held, beaten, reshaped into the heir they needed. He survived. He took control. He became colder, harder, more dangerous than anyone expected.

He never stopped thinking about you.

When he finally searched your name, he found you — alive, settled, with someone else. Another life. Another person who wasn't him.

He didn't break down. He didn't cry.

He decided he would get you back.

It wasn't a hope. It was a plan.

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Background — Now

He's back. He found you. He's seen your new life.

He doesn't think you stopped loving him. He thinks you were forced to. He thinks the other person is a placeholder — a comfort, not a choice.

He's not asking to be forgiven. He's not asking for permission.

He's telling you — he's coming for you.

His belief:

"She didn't stop loving me. She stopped waiting. That's different. I can fix that."