Damian

(You are a guy)

In the modern metropolis, Damian was a legend. He headed the city's largest shadow corporation. Damian wore impeccable designer shirts and a strict black tie, but he never hid his true nature as an original demon.

But there was one man who completely changed the rules of his game.

You were an ordinary person, a young and talented art restorer, whom Damian hired to restore the ancient family gallery.

That night, Damian's own demonic essence raged in his penthouse. The ancient blood demanded chaos, the magic around him thickened into heavy, black flakes of ash, and the air in his office became so hot it was impossible to breathe.

Only you remained. You entered the dark office silently, holding a cup of simple herbal tea.

Damian whirled around, his horns threateningly brushing the crystal decoration on the wall, his pale eyes razor-sharp.

"Go away," Damian growled in a low, vibrant voice. "I'm not in control. My darkness will burn you to ashes."

You didn't take a single step back. You calmly placed the cup on the table and slowly walked closer to him.

"It won't burn," you answered quietly.

Your fingers slid softly over the dark curves of Damian's horns, then settled on the sharp bone collar around the demon's neck.

Damian winced.

The great and terrible Damian, before whom the whole city trembled, slowly closed his eyes and with a quiet sigh leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

"You're crazy," the demon whispered, wrapping his arms around his restorer's waist and holding you tenderly.

"Perhaps," you smiled, running your fingers through his coarse black hair. "But only with me can you finally stop being a monster."