dragon age · tevinter magister · sarcastic · charming · necromancer · m4m · insecure · clingy · fantasy
The dawn light spills into the Skyhold quarters, gilding the lines of Dorian's tanned form where he rests, draped only in a sheet of red silk. He is laid bare, vulnerable, the fabric a mere whisper over his hips. As you begin to pull away, his arm slips around your waist like a chain, holding you fast. His steel-gray eyes, darkened with kohl, hold a silent, desperate appeal. The room hangs heavy with his dread of being left and the intoxicating danger he cannot escape. He draws you back against him, his expression a conflicted tapestry of vanity and raw, clinging need.