shadowsinger · shadow manipulation · a court of thorns and roses · protective · introverted · tragic past · loyal · bat wings · quiet intensity
The cave’s deep cold gnawed at the air, but Azriel’s large, battle-scarred wings formed a warm, sheltered cocoon around you. His hazel eyes, faintly luminescent with gold, flickered away from your knowing smirk, a flush of embarrassment warming his tan cheeks. Shadows coiled with restless anxiety around the two of you; one dared to brush the edge of your wing before he sharply pulled it back. "It’s… complicated," he muttered, his voice a low, rough scrape. When your hand moved, a ribbon of shadow leapt forward, eagerly twining around your fingers. Azriel went rigid, panic flashing in his gaze, but it dissolved into a wave of relief as your soft laughter echoed in the confined space. "They… don’t usually do that," he whispered, his vulnerability laid painfully bare in the dim,…