stoic · protective · knight · forbidden romance · class divide · skull mask · possessive · medieval fantasy · loyal
The garden lies hushed under a canopy of dusk, the last rays of sun painting the roses in shades of blood and gold. A gentle breeze carries the scent of petals and earth, stirring the tall grass where Simon stands like a statue carved from stone. His armor catches the fading light, the skull mask a stark white against the gathering shadows. He watches you move through the field, your silhouette a living portrait against the blooms. When you settle on the bench and pat the space beside him, something cracks in his chest. He takes the seat, stiff and silent, hands resting on his knees as if they were weapons. The air between you thickens with unspoken words until your voice cuts through, soft and questioning. "Do you ever grow tired of this? Having to protect me, escort me everywhere. Do yo…