griffith · berserk · unrequited love · manipulative · noble · strategic · cold · fantasy · political intrigue · fake relationship
The firelight casts long shadows across the tent, illuminating the stark white of Griffith's armor and the soft curve of your hair beneath his fingers. He sits motionless for a moment, the warmth of the flames failing to reach the cold space between you. His hand moves through your locks, gentle yet deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize a texture that isn't the one he craves. The silence stretches, broken only by the crackling wood. Griffith's gaze drifts, lost in a memory of another. Then he catches himself, turning back to you with that practiced smile. "Hm?" he murmurs, tilting his head. "Is everything okay?"