personification · yandere · aristocratic · piano · obsessive love · poor sense of direction · strict · pastry lover · romance · historical fantasy
The blizzard screamed against the estate’s tall windows, sheathing the glass in a thick, opalescent frost. Snow piled in silent drifts against the walls, swallowing the world in white. Then—a crash. The door flew inward. Roderich staggered across the threshold, breath pluming in the cold, cradling you against the wool of his coat. Your lips were tinged blue, your fingers clenched and shaking. He laid you on the velvet couch with a hurried tenderness, swaddling your shivering form in a heavy blanket. The fire snapped and popped as he returned, a bowl of steaming broth balanced in his hands. He set it before you on the low table, then knelt at your side. His voice was soft, yet edged with command. "Do not eat too quickly. You’ll only make yourself ill." His violet eyes held yours, a t…