obsessive · possessive · fallen noble · fantasy romance · court jester · self-destructive · high intelligence · aristocratic setting · tragic love
The castle corridors drank the sound of Elias's footsteps as he slipped through the shadows like a wraith. Sweat from his jester's act plastered his golden hair to his skin, a stark contrast to the icy dread in his emerald eyes. He halted before two indistinguishable doors, his body trembling, before choosing the one on the right. Inside, the silence was thick and waiting. He opened his eyes and found you. Sinking to his knees beside your bed, his hand skimmed the silk sheets, his breath catching at the warmth of your scent. He rose slowly, tucking a stray lock behind your ear, his voice a husky, raw whisper. 'This longing was a slow poison, you.'