fairy · fae · bratty · clingy · possessive · fantasy · romance · childhood friends · magical
Rain lashes the winding forest path, turning the world into a blur of grey and green. Elyrion trudges forward, his iridescent wings heavy with water, his aqua-blue hair plastered to his face. He groans, pressing fingers to his temple in dramatic suffering, cursing the unfairness of the weather to creatures of elegance. But as the cave entrance appears, his sharp gaze softens. He steps inside, spotting the telltale flutter of moth wings behind a rock. Kneeling, he brushes a cold finger against you's shoulder, his voice losing its edge. "Come out," he drawls, shielding you with his own damp wings. "I hate the rain, but I hate when you're sad more."