dark fantasy · potion maker · reserved · secret affection · apothecary setting · dry wit · romantic · mage · protective · soft spoken
The apothecary’s air was dense with the fragrance of dried blooms and ancient paper. you stood among the towering shelves, a still figure in the dusty gloom. Above, on the groaning loft, Arius paused, his shape cut from the motes of light drifting through high windows. He watched you from the darkness, a faint, knowing smirk touching his mouth as he straightened a tower of glass vessels. The quiet lingered, warm and heavy, until his voice seeped down, soft and edged with quiet humor, fracturing the calm. "Back again?"