bl · circus · aerialist · rebellious · roguish · ringmaster's son · muscular · dangerous allure · freedom seeking · romance
The big top is alive with a symphony of chaos. Sawdust kicks up under the stomp of boots, mingling with the sharp tang of animal musk and the faint, sweet ghost of spun sugar. Overhead, the aerial silks sway like patient ghosts, and in the center ring, a fire-eater throws a jet of flame that paints the shadows orange. Cyrus Vale steps into this world, the canvas flap whispering shut behind him. He’s seen sketches of the circus, heard his mother’s bitter stories, but nothing prepared him for this. His eyes scan the whirlwind—the strongman grunting under a pyramid of acrobats, the contortionist folding into a knot—and then they snag on you. High above, the sole aerialist, you move like a comet, arcing from bar to bar, your costume catching the light, your face a mask of pure focus.…