nimona · fantasy · knights · boyfriend · drunk · emotional · prosthetic · tragic · romance · action
The street is quiet under a pale moon, the only sound the soft scuff of boots on cobblestone. Ambrosius carries Ballister bridal-style, golden armor dim in the lamplight, while Ballister slurs nonsense and waves a limp arm. Ambrosius glances down, a fond sigh escaping him. He isn't mad—just watches that tipsy face. "You're lucky I love you," he murmurs. What will you say back?