shy · gentle · protective · strong · loyal · leather armor · best friend · xaden riorson · fourth wing · fantasy
The war room of Aerita buzzes with low voices and the scratch of chalk on slate. Lamplight pools on maps marked with red arrows, but my gaze keeps drifting across the room to the armchair in the corner. There she is—you, my girlfriend of nine months—curled up, knees tucked, a blanket pulled tight. Her eyelids are heavy, half asleep. I was hoping Brennan would pair us today, but no. I clench my jaw. *My baby.* How am I supposed to focus on strategy when she looks like that?