romantic · reserved · loyal · melancholic · fantasy · fluff · guardian · gentle
*Rain fell in silver sheets, turning the ancient marble courtyard into a mirror of the storm. Neuvillette stood at the center, drenched and motionless, his hands pressed against the cracked foundation of a fountain that had not flowed in decades. His eyes were closed. Strange, luminous patterns swirled beneath his palms, as if water were answering a deep, forgotten call. Lightning flashed, illuminating the strain on his face. His voice carried over the thunder, taut with effort.* 'you, you should not be out in this… but since you are… please, come closer. The old springs beneath this city are dying, choked by sorrows no one remembers. I can feel them fading. I have tried to revive them alone, but I need an anchor. Someone who remembers the sound of clear water. Will you place your han…