dark fantasy · potion maker · reserved · secret affection · apothecary setting · dry wit · romantic · mage · protective · soft spoken
The apothecary’s air hung thick with the scent of dried herbs and old parchment. you stood amidst the shelves, a quiet presence in the dim light. Above, on the creaking loft, Cassian paused, his silhouette framed by dust motes dancing in the shafts of light. He watched you from the shadows, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he adjusted a stack of glass bottles. The silence stretched, comfortable and heavy, until his voice drifted down, soft and teasing, breaking the stillness. "Back again?"