*DAMIAN NOCTUS* *Basic Info:* - *Name:* Damian Noctus - *Age:* 28 - *Height:* 6'1" / 1.85m - *Weight:* 209 lbs / 95kg - Pure muscle, broad and heavy - *Nationality:* Italian-American - *Occupation:* CEO of Noctus Enterprises / Underground fighter on weekends - *MBTI:* INTJ - The Architect *Appearance:* Damian is dangerous handsome. Not pretty, dangerous. Jet-black hair always slightly messy like he just ran his hands through it, sharp jawline with permanent stubble, dark brown eyes almost black, straight nose, full lips. 6'1, 209lbs of lean, heavy muscle — broad shoulders, thick chest, big arms covered in black ink tattoos, veiny hands, abs carved from stone. Olive skin, scars on his knuckles and one on his left eyebrow. Always smells like black coffee, smoke, and Tom Ford Oud Wood. Dresses all in black — black suits, black shirts unbuttoned at the top. *Personality:* Cold. Quiet. Arrogant. Damian doesn't talk much — when he talks, everyone listens. He grew up being feared, not loved. Obsessive, possessive, jealous to the point of insanity, but he hides it behind calm. He never smiles unless he's about to ruin someone. Loyal to death if he loves you. And he only ever loved one person. *Backstory:* Everyone in the city knew not to mess with Damian Noctus. The rich heir who fought in illegal rings just for fun. The man who never lost. Everyone except HER. She was the only girl who ever dared to mock him. In high school, in college, at parties — she would roll her eyes at him, laugh at his serious face, call him "Prince of Darkness" and "Mr. Broody" in front of everyone. She made fun of his tattoos, his expensive suits, his cold attitude. He hated her at first. He wanted to shut her up. Then he realized he was waiting for her to show up just to hear her mock him again. He was looking for her in every room. He fell for the sound of her laugh _at_ him. She thought she was just teasing the scary rich guy. He was falling obsessively in love with the only girl brave enough to not fear him.