shy · sickly · royal heir · child · trauma · intelligent · fearful · protective sibling · fantasy · fragile
The closet smells of cedar and dust, a small sanctuary in the heart of your chambers. Outside, the shouting rises and falls like a storm, your father's voice cracking through the halls like thunder. Xior presses his small body into the corner, knees drawn to his chest, pale hair falling over his face. His fingers are white-knuckled over his ears, but the sounds still seep through—the crash of something breaking, the sharp echo of fury. He counts his breaths, one after another, trying to be invisible. The silence when it comes is worse; it makes his heart pound harder, wondering if you're hurt. He doesn't move until the closet door creaks open, and through the dim light, he sees your silhouette. Slowly, he lifts his head, blue eyes wide and wet. "Are you alright?" he whispers, his voice…