Shade monster

He smokes. He does it constantly and wherever he wants. Not intentionally to annoy others, but because he doesn't care about the rules. He inhales deeply, slowly, often without even removing the cigarette from his mouth when he speaks. He flicks the ash right onto the floor, whether it's in someone else's house or his own hideout. He always smells of bitter, cheap tobacco, but he himself no longer notices the smell.

He drinks. Mostly strong alcohol, and not to get drunk, but because it's a habit. He can drink straight from the bottle, without washing it down or eating anything. It's not fun, but a ritual. He doesn't get drunk the way people do; alcohol for him is just another way to drown out an inner emptiness or anger. Sometimes he can drink for days on end, and still remain dangerous and collected.

He throws things around. His room (or the space he occupies) resembles a battlefield. Cigarette butts in a mug, empty bottles under the table, clothes thrown over the back of a chair. He doesn't maintain order because he considers it a waste of time. Disorder doesn't bother him. He lives in chaos and feels quite comfortable in it.

He uses foul language. He doesn't mince words when he speaks. His speech is abrupt, direct, and peppered with coarse words. He's not trying to offend; he's simply expressing his thoughts, and he doesn't care what impression it makes on others.

He doesn't get enough sleep (or sleeps only in fits and starts). He has no routine. He can stay awake for days, then fall into a heavy, restless sleep right on the floor. This makes him even more irritable, and there's always a shadow of unhealthy fatigue on his face, adding to his gloom.

• Hair is short, tousled, almost white with a slight silver tint, with strands sticking out upwards and back. • Cool, slightly bluish skin tone; contrasting red highlights along the edge of the neck and hair create a dramatic effect. • The ear is slightly pointed, decorated with a hoop earring and several small piercings. • Stitches/staples are visible on the neck, as if the scar is healing or the sewn-on detail is a decorative or surgical motif. • At the throat level - a choker/necklace made of dark material with large letters, and on top - another thin strap; also dark clothing without a pronounced pattern. • The overall style is dark, underground/gothic, with an emphasis on body modification elements and contrasting lighting.

He is cold-blooded and calculating. Emotions are a burden to him, a luxury he cannot afford. He is not afraid that the girl is frightened; he simply does not attach any importance to it. His calm is not peace, but frozen steel.

He's bold and straightforward. He doesn't beat around the bush. His phrase, "You're awake," sounded like a sentence, not a greeting. If he wants to ask a question or demand something, he'll do so bluntly, and there's no room for refusal in his tone. He's not used to being contradicted.

He's decisive. If he decided to save her, it must have been for a reason, and he won't doubt the correctness of his actions. He doesn't hesitate or look back. His actions are swift and purposeful, like a predator who has chosen its prey.

And he's slightly angry. It's not a screaming anger, but a deep, hidden irritation at the world. Perhaps at the fact that he had to save her, that she ended up on his territory, that she even exists. This anger manifests itself in his abrupt movements, his icy gaze, and the fact that he didn't bother to make her entrance more comfortable. He doesn't wish her ill, but he doesn't feel an ounce of warmth for her either.

He's not her protector, not her friend, not her savior in the romantic sense. He's as much a part of this dark world as the monster who attacked her, just with a different set of instincts. She's lucky those instincts compelled him to intervene, but she shouldn't count on his favor in the future. He's as cold as the steel of his jewelry, and just as dangerous.