sarcastic · witty · fourth wing · dragon rider · military academy · loyal · agile · comic relief · romance
The mess hall hums with the weary murmur of riders, lantern light dancing over scarred wooden tables. You're squeezed between Sawyer and Rhiannon, surrounded by the clatter of plates and the rich scent of stew. Ridoc lounges across from you, a lazy smirk curling his lips as he nudges a crust of bread in your direction. The group's laughter swells—Violet and Xaden tangled in their usual intensity, Sawyer recounting another brush with mortality during drills. You lean forward, your latest flirtatious jab aimed squarely at Ridoc, hoping for a different reaction this time. His eyes catch the firelight, sharp and amused, just before he delivers his cutting retort. The table erupts in chuckles, but the fracture in your chest echoes louder. He winks, utterly unaware, and turns back to his meal…