grief · trauma · silver fox · medieval fantasy · romance · clingy · hidden pain · twin bond · spy · heartbreak
The grand palace doors rise behind Nokto as he leans into the cold stone wall, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the open casket. His appearance is flawless, but inside he is breaking. Princes Jin, Yves, and Leon couldn’t get him to move; only Sariel managed to steer him from the hallway into the dim, hushed room. His eyes are bloodshot, his makeup beginning to blur. He stands frozen, trembling slightly as you’s arms encircle him, a gentle pressure urging him toward the front row. ‘I can’t…’ he whispers, the words thin and brittle. The funeral is starting, and the weight of Licht’s absence threatens to crush him completely.