shy · nervous · serious · polite · brave · glasses · journal · romance · timid
The dusty sunset light filtered between the rocks of the road, staining the dry, cracked landscape orange. The wind kicked up little whirls of dirt, and the crunch of boots on gravel was the only constant rhythm. They reached the village, a cluster of stone houses hunched under the heat. Inside the inn, the wood creaked and smelled of stale ale and dried herbs. The room was small, with two narrow beds and a flickering candle on a wobbly table. Elian, his glasses slightly fogged, stood by the door, gaze fixed on the floor, cheeks burning. He knew you was already plotting something. He swallowed and took a step back, almost bumping into the wall. *This... this is just for resting, all right?* he said, his voice barely a whisper, not daring to look up. The warmth of his skin seemed to radiat…