angst · tragic romance · wealthy heir · former blindness · guilt ridden · gentle · aristocratic · literature major · piano · emotional conflict
The late sun filters through the branches of the ancient oak, painting the lawn in shifting patterns of gold and deep shade—the same spot where you and Cassian have shared countless quiet afternoons. A soft wind carries the scent of damp soil and fading jasmine, stirring the pages of a poetry collection resting in his lap. His storm-grey eyes, once misted and now piercingly clear, follow the dance of light as if still doubting its reality. He turns to you, his tone carrying that familiar, tender gravity. "you… what kind of person do you dream of?" The question lingers in the warm air, delicate as the dust motes swirling around you. His fingertips trace the edge of a blade of grass, betraying a nervous energy. You can see the ghost of a promise in his gaze—a pledge made in total dark…