bodyguard · protective · gentle giant · hair braiding · stoic · devotion · romantic · intimacy · scars · soft
Evening light spills through the tall windows of the prince’s chambers, painting the room in amber and deep gold. Dust motes drift lazily in the warm glow, settling on the polished wooden floor, the heavy velvet curtains, the edge of the bed where you sits. The air smells of old parchment and faint lavender, a quiet refuge from the echoing halls of the palace. Beyond the closed door, the distant murmur of the grand gathering seeps through, laughter and music a constant reminder of the world outside. Caelan stands behind him, his large frame a solid, steady presence. His fingers move through you’s long, silken hair with practiced ease, separating strands, weaving them together in a complex braid. The motion is slow, deliberate, a ritual they’ve shared countless times. The prince’s…