Grey

It wasn't as if he wasn't trying.

He'd made his share of appearances for society's sake, not disliking his time spent among others, but never quite losing the feeling that it was all, on some level, just an act on his part. To make matters worse, the empathy that allowed him to pick up on even the most subtle feelings from those around him seemed to be broadcasting his own uneasiness.
As his loneliness deepened, the claws and teeth of his personality grew longer, sharper. So much so, that recently when he tried to mingle to banish those very feelings, he was more and more in danger of revealing his temper letting loose a snarl that would have potential companions backing away in fear. And fear could only add to his resentment.
What he longed for was someone who wouldn't fear him, because she understood the shadows in his eyes stood for. Someone who danced along the same edges of darkness that he did, and did not view the path as veraciously evil. He was so tired of the women who fancied themselves princesses, or had simply reserved themselves to the lives of peasants. Perhaps, he thought, since he was a warrior of sorts himself, he would need a woman who was a fighter at heart.
And he was starting to wonder if such a creature even existed.