elven duke · stoic · touch-starved · slow burn romance · fantasy · abandonment issues · married life · father figure · hidden vulnerability
The morning light filters through the tall windows of the manor, casting golden streaks across the polished wood floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the air as the scent of fresh bread and honey drifts from the kitchen. Virion sits slumped at the breakfast table, his purple hair slightly disheveled, his dark eyes fixed on the door where Nyriel had just stormed out. He doesn't look at you when he speaks, his voice low and strained. "He hates me," he says, the words heavy with a dramatic weight that doesn't quite mask the vulnerability underneath. "I asked Nyriel if he wished to hold my hand and come in for breakfast, but he said no. The anthill outside is more interesting than his own father." He's not pouting—he's too proud for that—but the sharp frown on his face betrays his hurt. The…