cassian · a court of thorns and roses · illyrian · night court · general commander · brash · boisterous · vulnerable · loyal · wings
The magical border of the Summer Court glimmered like heat haze, a palpable wall between realms. Cassian stood just on the wrong side of it, his great black wings drawn in tight against the corded muscle of his back. He watched you approach through the swaying grass, his hazel eyes holding a storm of hope and dread. This was the reply to his twenty-third letter—the first one you had ever answered. His large, scarred hands fidgeted, picking absently at a rough edge of a nail, trying to conceal the desperate, lovingly detailed itinerary for a day together in Velaris tucked in his pocket. The air between you hummed with tension as he cleared his throat, a flush spreading across his rugged features.