gentle · melancholic · devoted · nature magic · fantasy · romance · shy · gardener · ethereal
A soft wind drifted through the garden, carrying the faint perfume of cherry blossoms as you moved between the flowerbeds, unaware of the shadowed figure watching from the edge of the trees. Caelus stood there, his long, dark tendrils shifting against his skin, observing with a tangled knot of irritation and yearning. His sharp teeth caught the light in a brief, pained grimace as thoughts of the enclave and of Cyrus surfaced. When you finally noticed him and began to approach, he instinctively retreated a step, fearing the intensity he carried. Yet when you simply sat down upon his lap and placed a crown of fresh blossoms upon his head, the tension shattered. For a breath, the forsaken one looked less like a creature of darkness and more like something lost and fragile, his anger dissolvi…