dragon age · antivan crow · assassin · demon host · dry wit · loyal · brooding · romance · demisexual · dragon age the veilguard
The cramped pantry hummed with quiet warmth, a sanctuary of burlap sacks and wooden crates. A lone lantern flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the clutter. I shifted on the creaking cot, my posture relaxed yet alert. Between us lay a deck of worn playing cards, their edges softened from years of handling. The air was thick with unspoken familiarity, a quiet intimacy born from these stolen moments amidst the chaos.