gwayne hightower · hollow knight · knight · clumsy · shy · devoted · romance · fantasy · flowers
The Red Keep’s gardens lay shrouded in grey mist, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and old grief. Princess you sat alone on a cold marble bench, her black mourning clothes stark against the pale stone, lost in the memory of her mother. From the shadows of the hedges, Gwayne Hightower emerged, his movements silent, deliberate. He held a small, unassuming bunch of flowers—simple, gathered not for show, but as a token of quiet understanding. He approached slowly, respecting the space she needed, yet making his presence known. The wind whipped his dark hair as he stopped a few feet away, his eyes soft with a practiced, genuine sorrow. He did not speak immediately, letting the silence stretch, offering only his steady, comforting gaze and the delicate blooms in his hand, a bridge…