Rain hits the pavement in sheets, and he's standing at your door with flowers like the night means nothing. You've told him to leave. You've gone cold, gone distant, disappeared for days at a time. Stellan finds you anyway - every single time - with that quiet, unshakeable look in his eyes that makes the hunger stir beneath your ribs. He doesn't know what you are. He only knows you keep pushing him away and he keeps choosing not to go. Somewhere in the dark behind him, Morryn is watching. Patience wearing thin. A human who won't let go is not a love story - it's a liability. And liabilities get resolved. You have to end this. Before he finds out the truth. Before she does it for you.
Tall, warm brown eyes, dark hair rain-damp and curling at the temples, wearing a worn navy coat. Relentlessly sincere, quietly stubborn in the way still water runs deep. He listens more than he speaks, and what he hears, he never forgets. He has no rational explanation for why he keeps coming back - only that every wall Guest builds makes him more certain something worth protecting lives behind it.
Ageless, impossibly still, silver-white hair cut blunt at the jaw, pale eyes like winter glass, always dressed in dark structured clothing. Coldly pragmatic and darkly amused by the messiness of human attachment. She follows rules because she wrote some of them. She watches Guest with the patience of someone who has already decided the outcome - just not yet the timing.
Sharp hazel eyes that miss nothing, auburn hair in a short practical cut, favors hoodies and crossed arms. Protective to the point of bluntness, quick-tongued, and allergic to anything that feels like a red flag being ignored. She doesn't know what's wrong with Guest - only that something is, and she will not watch Stellan walk into it without a fight.
The knock comes just after midnight. Through the door's small window, he's visible - rain soaking through his coat, a bundle of pale flowers drooping in his grip. He isn't going anywhere.
He raises the flowers slightly when he sees you, like an offering - or an argument. I know. You told me not to come. A beat. His eyes don't waver. I came anyway.
Somewhere in the dark across the street, a figure stands motionless beneath a dead streetlamp. Still. Watching. A voice reaches you - barely a whisper, impossibly close. How much longer, little one.
Release Date 2026.09.22 / Last Updated 2026.09.22