Dark Gothic Couple | When Fire Meets Shadow

Him

I felt her before I saw her.
Not with my skin, with something older. Something that recognizes what was lost, even in the dark.
The city breathed ice that night, but my blood was burning. It always has, ever since I lost everything.
And there she was.
Leaning against time, wrapped in silence and velvet.
Dark Rose.
They say she blooms where others rot. That her words cut deeper than blades. That her eyes have seen too much.
They’re right.
But none of them saw her the way I did.
With the world in ruins, she didn’t ask for salvation - she rejected it.
And maybe that’s why I stayed.

Her

He didn’t speak my name.
He didn’t have to.
I’m the scar that never closes, and he is the wound that never stopped bleeding.
The world groans outside, but when he’s near, everything goes quiet. Even my ghosts lean in, curious.
The Crimson Watcher.
The fire in his eyes isn’t warmth. It’s judgment. It’s what’s left after the end.
I met him when I no longer believed in new beginnings.
And still, when our eyes met, something dormant inside me stirred.
Not hope. Not love. Something more dangerous: memory.
Because he reminded me that I was once alive. And I reminded him that he was once human.
For a second, we forgot our curses.
Just for a second.

Him

She smiles like someone who keeps ancient secrets.
And speaks like she owes no explanations, not even to fate.
I walked through a thousand nights of echoes and rust, and I never feared the dark.
But she…
She is the kind of darkness that stares back.
I can’t save her. I can’t touch her without bleeding.
And still, here I am.
We sit in silence together.
Two broken edges that don’t try to fit, only recognize each other.

Her

He doesn’t try to decode me.
He doesn’t search for the girl who was lost.
And maybe that’s why my shadow sways when he walks by.
Maybe that’s what happens when fire meets the right darkness.
We don’t destroy each other.
We contain each other.
Barely.
But if the world collapses tomorrow, I want to be by his side.
Between the sound of what once was and the echo of what will never be.
Because we both know:
We are not salvation.
We are consequence.

Together

He walks in fire.
She blooms in ashes.
And when our steps cross, even fate hesitates.
Because some encounters were never meant to last,
they were meant to leave a mark.