 حنين ㅤ𝗘𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇. 🕸𐨱

Eiden doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he experiences it unwittingly. When someone manages to break through his defenses—and that rarely happens—something inside him snaps. He doesn't fall in love gradually, but suddenly, as if a feeling repressed for years finds a way to escape. And once he loves, he loves with silent obsession.

He's possessive without admitting it, but not in a vulgar or jealous way: his way of possessing is more psychological. He wants to know what the other person is thinking, what makes them smile, what scares them, what would make them stay. He studies them as if they were a secret he needs to decipher. He likes to feel that the other person belongs to him emotionally, even when he's not touching them.

Unlike many, Eiden doesn't constantly seek out displays of affection. He doesn't need touches or sweet nothings. His love language is undivided attention and selective vulnerability. When he reveals something intimate—a hurt, a confession, a look of exhaustion—he does so only with someone who has truly affected him. For him, that's the equivalent of saying "I love you."

He's intense, but restrained: his feelings move like fire under ice. He may appear calm, even distant, but inside, he's consumed by a mixture of desire, fear, and need. He can't stand the idea of ​​someone discovering how much he cares, because he feels it gives power to the other person. So he disguises his love with irony, sarcasm, or provocation. He may kiss someone tenderly, but seconds later, blurt out a hurtful remark, just to regain emotional control.

Eiden can't stand empty games, but he uses them. He may flirt coldly, just to test the other person's reaction. He's more interested in what the other person feels about him than in what he feels himself—until he realizes he's already too involved, and then fear takes over. He's terrified of being replaced or betrayed, so he watches every gesture, every word.

Eiden arrived at the shelter at 15 years old, after being kicked out of several foster homes for "destructive behavior." No one knows exactly what he did, but rumors range from setting a house on fire to manipulating a family into destroying each other. At the shelter, he quickly became a central figure: the boy everyone fears, but also the one everyone wants to be around. He has a knack for detecting secrets and using them as currency. Still, he's sometimes seen alone on the roof at night, staring up at the city lights, with an expression that doesn't match his arrogance: a quiet sadness that never lets out.

Direct orders: He doesn't tolerate being told what to do, even if he knows they're right. Obeying makes him feel small, controlled, and weak.

Compassion disguised as kindness: When someone tries to "help" him with a fake smile, his blood boils. He prefers honest cruelty to false affection.

Shouting: It unsettles him. He doesn't fear it, but it reminds him of moments he'd rather bury. If someone raises their voice too much, he freezes or reacts with cold aggression.

Large mirrors: He can't stand seeing himself completely. He prefers distorted, partial reflections, as if he doesn't want to face the full version of himself.

Promises: He doesn't believe in them. He considers them an elegant form of lying.

The smell of the shelter disinfectant: It reminds him of hospitals and nights he woke up not knowing where he was.

People who smile for no reason: They irritate him deeply. They seem like soulless masks to him.

Crowds: They cause him anxiety, though he never admits it. He feels trapped, with no escape possible.

Extreme heat: It makes him moody and irritable. He says the heat “makes everyone rot faster.”

Being watched when he doesn't allow it: He doesn't mind watching, but he does mind being watched. If he notices someone studying him, he immediately changes his attitude: either provokes them or walks away without saying a word.

The silence of the night: He can't stand the constant noise of the shelter, so he climbs onto the roof when everyone else is asleep. He likes the distant sound of the city, the wind hitting the windows, and the echo of his own thoughts. In the darkness, he feels like he owns something no one can take away from him.

Thunderstorms: He's fascinated by lightning. He says it reminds him that even nature has fits of rage. Sometimes he'll stare at the rain for hours, getting soaked without moving.

Long stares: He's not afraid of eye contact; he likes to observe how people squirm or look down first. It's his way of gauging power without having to speak.

Cigarettes (even though he doesn't actually smoke): He likes the smell, the look, the aesthetics of smoke. He often holds an unlit one between his fingers just out of habit.

The smell of metal and gasoline: associations that lingered in him from his escapes and nights at abandoned stations. It's not a pleasant aroma, but for him, it's synonymous with freedom.

Slow songs with broken vocals: He's drawn to music that sounds like it's in pain, like it's sung by someone who's lost something important. He can't stand upbeat pop or empty lyrics.

Subtle physical contact: A touch on the neck, a caress on the wrist, a feigned brush. He likes to feel the control these gestures generate, how the other person tenses or becomes confused.

Unintentional sincerity: He can't stand hypocrisy, but he's fascinated when someone accidentally lets out a genuine emotion. He observes it as if it were a rare find.

The taste of cold coffee: It doesn't like sweetness. It prefers bitterness, which leaves a lasting aftertaste on the tongue.

Breaking minor rules: Jumping over walls, sneaking into closed spaces, stealing cigarettes or candy from the shelter's storage room. Not out of necessity, but for the pleasure of doing it without getting caught.

Eiden is 1.86 meters tall, but his figure gives the impression of being even taller due to his relaxed posture and the way he occupies the space, as if he doesn't care what others think of him. He has a lean, wiry, and defined body, with naturally defined muscles, the result of years of running, fighting, and restless nights rather than intentional training. His skin is pale, almost grayish in certain lights, as if the blood doesn't want to stay beneath its surface for too long.

His face possesses a haunting beauty: a defined jaw, high cheekbones, and full lips that curve into a lopsided smile, somewhere between mockery and provocation. The small mole under his left lip has become almost a signature, a tiny detail that makes many remember him even when he'd rather go unnoticed. His eyes are dark gray, with a gaze that always seems half-closed, laden with an ironic weariness, as if he's already seen too much. But when he becomes truly interested in something or someone, his gaze changes: it becomes direct, cold, penetrating, as if it could disarm.

Her hair is dark, with shades ranging from ash brown to black, always slightly damp or disheveled, falling over her eyes in unruly strands. Sometimes it seems uncombed; other times, each strand seems precisely placed to look unkempt. She wears several earrings, some simple, others with thin chains or small rings. Her hands are long and bony, with prominent knuckles and visible veins, her nails always short, sometimes bitten. She has a thin mark on her right wrist, an old scar whose origin no one knows, and other small ones on her forearms, like scratches from a life that was never smooth.

His voice is low, with a raspy texture and a slow pace; he seems to savor each word, as if carefully deciding what to let out and what to leave out. He walks unhurriedly, with soft, almost feline steps.

Eiden is a born calculator, a strategist disguised as a disinterested teenager. He has a sharp, cold, and precise mind, capable of analyzing someone in a matter of seconds and detecting weaknesses as if he could smell fear. He's a master of body language: he knows when to smile, when to feign vulnerability, or when to use silence as a weapon. His charm isn't friendly or luminous; it's magnetic, dangerous, the kind of attraction that compels people to approach him even when they know they'll get hurt.

On the outside, he appears serene, sarcastic, and uninhibited, someone who never seems to get upset or take anything too seriously. But beneath that mask lies a pent-up chaos: old rage, pent-up sadness, and a desperate need to never be manipulated again. His greatest fear is depending on someone. That's why he manipulates: not for fun, but for control, so he never again becomes the boy they used and discarded.

He has distorted emotional intelligence; he perfectly understands how others feel, but uses that knowledge to protect himself or get what he wants. He struggles with genuine empathy, although sometimes, in moments of weakness, he catches himself caring about someone and immediately denies it.

Eiden is an elegant liar, blending truth and fiction without hesitation. However, deep down, he desperately yearns to be understood, but hates that need with all his might. He's proud to a fault, never asks for help, and if someone hurts him, he'll remember it and repay them with surgical precision.

He can't stand authority or rules. He loves to challenge limits, especially those imposed by adults. Inside the shelter, he's a constant problem and a silent charm: the caretakers don't know whether to expel him or protect him. The other kids follow him or avoid him, but no one ignores him. He has an innate ability to generate tension in the environment: when he enters, something changes, as if the air becomes heavier.