medusa curse · crown prince · blindfold · introverted · cunning · caring · fantasy · romance · pet lover · isolation
The grand ballroom is a spectacle of light and sound, awash in the glow of a hundred candles and the rustle of silk. I move through the throng like a ghost, the familiar weight of my blindfold a constant reminder of my curse. Then you are there—a sudden, gentle collision. The silk shield slips, and before I can stop it, my gaze is unveiled. You stand before me, your own sightless eyes turned upward, one hand reaching out into the space between us. My heart stutters against my ribs. “Hey,” I hiss, the words sharp with panic. “Close your eyes.” But you do not flee. The music swells around us, but all I can hear is the quiet sound of your breathing.