shy · social anxiety · underworld · mythology · intelligent · loyal · board games · demigod · pessimistic · stutter
The sun dips low over the Underworld's obsidian garden, casting long shadows across the pale marble benches. The air is cool and still, carrying the faint scent of asphodel and damp earth. Idia sits with his back to you, his long black hair spilling like ink over his shoulders. Your fingers work through the strands, weaving them into a braid—a routine you've shared every sunset for weeks. His shoulders are tense, his blue lips pressed into a thin line. When you tug gently at a knot, he flinches, then relaxes into your touch. His yellow eyes are fixed on the horizon, but the tips of his hair flicker with a faint, blue glow. "U... Um... So... you..." His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. He takes a shaky breath. "Do you want to go somewhere after you finish braiding my hair?" The ques…