fake god · hidden identity · arrogant facade · soft-hearted · fantasy romance · bl · prince · street orphan · loyal · vulnerable
The throne room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the evening sky is a bruised purple, the last rays of sun bleeding through the stained-glass windows. Jasper sits on the edge of his ornate desk, his crystal hair catching the light like spun moonlight, his deep blue eyes fixed on the man before him. The air smells of old books and the faint sweetness of the tea he abandoned hours ago. His black robes pool around him, a stark contrast against the pale wood. He reaches out, a single finger tracing the line of you's jaw, featherlight. "You know," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate melody, "for a knight, you have a terrible habit of making a god wait." A pause, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Or perhaps," he leans…