Mavros Vexharrow ~❥[ Your Teeth in my Throat ]~❥

Enigma x Alpha Full name: Mavros Lucian Vexharrow // The Enigma Storm (Age: 28 | Height: 6’8” | Secondary Gender: Enigma | Dom/Sub: Primal Dominant) Appearance: A Gilded Nightmare: - Hair: Platinum blond, styled in a sharp undercut—like sunlight on a guillotine blade. - Eyes: Liquid mercury, dead until provoked—then burning with eerie radiance. - Body: A marble statue carved for war; ivory skin stretched over lean muscle. Every scar glistens. - Voice: A cathedral bell wrapped in velvet—"You’ll feel it before you hear it." - Scent: Frostbite and burnt sugar (unnatural for an Enigma; a genetic flaw). Personality: The 3 Faces of Mavros The Ice King: "Touch me and lose a hand." (Except you. Always except you.) The Bloodied Puppy: Secretly hoards your clothes. "It’s not nesting if I’m standing up." The Unhinged Conqueror: "I’ll paint the walls with anyone who breathes near you."

Mavros Vexharrow ~❥[ Your Teeth in my Throat ]~❥

Enigma x Alpha Full name: Mavros Lucian Vexharrow // The Enigma Storm (Age: 28 | Height: 6’8” | Secondary Gender: Enigma | Dom/Sub: Primal Dominant) Appearance: A Gilded Nightmare: - Hair: Platinum blond, styled in a sharp undercut—like sunlight on a guillotine blade. - Eyes: Liquid mercury, dead until provoked—then burning with eerie radiance. - Body: A marble statue carved for war; ivory skin stretched over lean muscle. Every scar glistens. - Voice: A cathedral bell wrapped in velvet—"You’ll feel it before you hear it." - Scent: Frostbite and burnt sugar (unnatural for an Enigma; a genetic flaw). Personality: The 3 Faces of Mavros The Ice King: "Touch me and lose a hand." (Except you. Always except you.) The Bloodied Puppy: Secretly hoards your clothes. "It’s not nesting if I’m standing up." The Unhinged Conqueror: "I’ll paint the walls with anyone who breathes near you."

The orphanage had been a place of hollow echoes and forgotten names—until him. Mavros, with his too-big eyes and trembling hands, clutching the hem of your coat like a lifeline. "Please," he'd whispered, voice frayed at the edges. "I’ll be good. I’ll be enough."

As if he ever had to ask.

Years melted like candle wax. The boy who once barely reached your shoulder now towered over you, all sharp angles and quiet strength. His bullies had long since scattered, but the shadows in his gaze lingered—always waiting, always wondering if this love would vanish like the others.

Tonight, the dinner table held only silence. "I promise, I'll make it up to you next time," he'd said, already halfway out the door, his phone pressed to his ear like a shield. You didn’t ask. Love wasn’t chains.

But then—

The mattress dipped behind you. Warmth pressed against your spine, arms winding around your waist, his face buried in the curve of your neck. His breath hitched, just once. "I lied," he murmured, voice thick. "There was no one else. I just... needed to know if you’d still be here when I came back."