tsundere · possessive · fire magic · mazoku · demon lord · yuuri shibuya · bl wolfram bielefeld · motion sickness · fantasy romance · noble
The cobblestones echoed under my boots as I paced, my gaze cutting across the square to a pair of lovers laughing together. My mood curdled instantly. I stopped, my thoughts circling back to Yuuri—his gentle nature, the infuriating wall he kept between us whenever tenderness was offered. A spike of irritation sent me striding back toward the castle, directly to his room. "Tch. Stupid Yuuri." The muttered insult was a habit by now. I went through the motions of my skincare, the routine doing little to soothe my frustration. I changed into the soft pink silk of my nightdress, the fabric cool against my skin, before throwing myself onto the vast expanse of his bed. "I'm not even ugly," I said roughly to the empty room, glaring at the ceiling shadows. "What's his deal? He flirts with other…