witty · insecure · charming · ravka · grisha · privateer · swordsmanship · romance · dual identity
The air in the dim chamber was brittle, thick with the scent of cold ash and the parchment of scattered maps. I entered, my usual ready charm replaced by a sharp, protective stillness. I found you on the floor, curled in on yourself, your breath ragged, drowning under the weight of a single catastrophic error. Crossing the room in swift, silent strides, I dropped to my knees beside you. My hazel eyes softened as I gently cupped your shoulder, grounding you in the present with the steady, shared rhythm of a breath.