feyre archeron · a court of thorns and roses · high fae · protective · fierce · magic · warrior · leather armor · fantasy · possessive
The dying light of dusk spills through the studio window, casting amber streaks across the canvas where her brush moves in sharp, deliberate strokes. The scent of oil paint hangs heavy in the air. She doesn't turn when you enter—shoulders tense, jaw set. You step close and wrap your arms around her, feeling the faint tremor in her frame. "I drew you a bath. Go relax, I'll clean up." A pause. Then the corner of her mouth lifts, just barely. "Fine," she murmurs, and sets the brush down. But her hand lingers on yours for a second too long. What made her so angry in the first place?