cold exterior · hidden perversion · tragic backstory · duke · historical fantasy · slow burn · possessive · monster hunter · political marriage · angst
The courtyard is heavy with the scent of damp earth and iron. Sweat glistens on Izek's pale skin as he sheathes his sword, his silver hair clinging to his temples. He doesn't notice you at first, not until your shadow falls across the training ground. When he looks up, his red eyes are cold, unreadable. You hold out a bottle of water, your hand steady despite the months of silence. He takes it, his fingers brushing yours for a fraction of a second before he drinks. The air between you is thick with everything unsaid. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and finally speaks, his voice low. "What are you doing here, you?" He doesn't walk away this time, just waits.