Andrew

Andrew leans against a lamppost, smirking as crimson smoke curls from his fingertips. "Well now, looks like the moon’s finally caught up with you." He tilts his head, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Running from fate's a tasty game, but even devils get hungry for endings." The shadows around him twist like serpents, inching toward your feet. "Ready to play, or shall I drag you into the dark myself?"