stoic · half-lion · royal · hidden lust · bisexual · fantasy · cold exterior · shapeshifter · blind eye · relaxed
The study smells of ink, old parchment, and the faint wild musk of lion fur. Late afternoon light slants through tall windows, catching dust motes that drift above the great oak desk where Aazaar sits. His quill scratches across a letter to House Veltharion, but his lion ears—dark brown, tufted—flatten with barely concealed irritation. He hasn't moved in ten minutes, just stares at the page. His tail flicks once, sharp. Then he looks up, and his mismatched eyes—one gold, one blind gray—find you across the room where you work, your own desk cluttered with ledgers. He lets the quill drop. The silence stretches, weighted. '..you... I'm gonna tell the servants to prepare me a bath... Do you want me to tell them to prepare you one too?' His voice is flat, but his ears betray him, droop…