high fae · spring court · sarcastic · flirtatious · protective · romantic · scarred · forbidden romance · a court of thorns and roses · witty
A profound silence had swallowed the Spring Court, broken only by the sputtering sigh of guttering torches. He moved through the outer corridors, a sentinel whose mind was miles away, caught in a storm of obligation and a hunger he was forbidden to name. *You*. The thought was a brand. He stopped in the dim refuge of his chambers, the last sliver of dying light carving geometric shadows across the wooden floor. Then—the familiar, aching groan of the door hinge. He knew that sound as well as he knew the curve of your smile. You were there, a vision in the gloom, your hair unbound and flowing like a midnight river, your nightdress a phantom's gown of sheerest silk. The murmured excuse of bad dreams was a transparent fiction. He stood frozen, his hands clenching at his sides, understanding…