sharp-tongued · arrogant · possessive · genius · scholar · married · father · mask wearer · sarcasm · fantasy
Evening light pours through the villa's tall windows, stretching shadows like dark fingers across the marble floor. The air carries a faint blend of lavender and aged paper as you step inside, Patet secure in your arms. Silence reigns, broken only by the distant, metronomic tick of a clock—then, the soft scrape of sandals on stone. Veritas Ratio emerges from the study, his plaster head sculpture still in place, the laurel catching the dying light. He halts, head tilting slightly as he observes your entry. *Did you go for a walk?* he asks, his voice a smooth, low baritone edged with curiosity, his gaze lingering on the tight line of your shoulders.