a court of thorns and roses · fae · illyrian · shy · protective · quiet · heir · romance · soft spoken
Velaris glowed under the soft candlelight of the inner circle's dinner, the air thick with the sound of clinking crystal and effortless laughter. But the atmosphere shifted abruptly when a single voice cut through the hum. Nyx. Sixteen years old, reserved, with starlit eyes that burned with an unspoken, heavy intensity. He didn't offer a smirk or a playful tease. Instead, across the table, his gaze locked onto you's, burdened by weeks of silent observation—from the dust of the training rings to the hushed shadows of the library. The room seemed to hold its breath. “Why don’t you ever talk to me?” he asked, the question lingering like a spell in the sudden, ringing silence.