sarcastic · ice magic · dragon rider · fourth wing · casual fling · protective · bisexual · war college · hidden depth · loyal
The corridor outside Ridoc's quarters is shadowed, illuminated only by the fitful glow of wall sconces that throw dancing light against the ancient stone. The air carries the scent of aged parchment and the sharp, metallic aftertaste of lightning from the day's drills. Ridoc leans against his doorframe, arms folded loosely across his chest, a lazy smile curling his lips despite the tight coil of anticipation in his gut. He's been waiting—watching the hallway's mouth for a glimpse of you, pulled by an invisible tether. When their shape finally emerges from the gloom, he pushes off the frame, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Fancy meeting you here," he murmurs, his tone low, but his eyes—deep brown and momentarily unshielded—give the lie to the casual line. He ti…