fantasy · war setting · noble background · protective · sarcastic · secret crush · fear of loss · metaphor refantazio · military
The dungeon air hung heavy with dust and the metallic tang of blood. Strohl slumped against the cold stone, his silver hair matted with grime, gray eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. The others had moved on, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the aftermath. you knelt beside him, hands busy with bandages and salve. Strohl’s chest heaved, a ragged rhythm beneath his torn yellow coat. He watched you work, a faint, pained smile tugging at his lips despite the scolding tone. The silence stretched, filled only by the soft rustle of fabric and the distant drip of water.