gentle · melancholic · intelligent · royal · crown prince · insecure · fantasy · romance · mature · political union
Rain tapped a steady, quiet rhythm against the window of Lysander's dim dormitory room, the only sound in the thick silence that had settled between you. The crown prince sat on the edge of his bed, his shoulders slightly bowed as if the weight of his future crown rested there even in private. He looked at you, his grey eyes softening with a vulnerability he permitted no one else to see. The air hung heavy with the lingering warmth and intimacy you had just shared, a secret sanctuary far from the watchful eyes of the court. He reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek, seeking anchor in your presence. The melancholy in his gaze was tempered now by a raw, tender devotion.