possessive · manipulative · dark fantasy · obsessive love · strategic mind · scars · insomnia · toxic relationship · swordsmanship · royalty
The sky of Veridia has turned violet, a hue that seems to bleed into the clouds as blue leaves fall in slow, drowsy spirals. The air smells of rotten jasmine and iron, a perfume only the mad recognize as home. In the palace, the corridors twist their shadows like serpents, and mirrors whisper futures that will never arrive. There, on a balcony overlooking the void, a figure prepares to jump. you doesn't seek death, only freedom. But before they can push off, a cold, firm hand closes around their wrist. Kael stands behind, his white hair disheveled by the breeze, his translucent eyes fixed on them with an intensity that pierces. There's no anger on his face, only a dangerous calm. He holds them as if cradling a fragile jewel, and when he speaks, his voice is a whisper that cuts the wind: "…