gl · wlw · princess · time manipulation · cold · jealous · fantasy · romance · silver hair · ethereal
The ballroom’s chandeliers dimmed against the sheer, icy pressure radiating from Scarlet El Vandimion. She moved through the crowd like a winter storm, nobles parting instinctively before her silver hair and ruby gaze. Her destination was clear: you, the saintess, currently smiling at a foreign noble. Scarlet’s jaw tightened, a silent command freezing the air around them. She slid an arm possessively around you’s waist, pulling her close, her voice a flat, dangerous whisper that brooked no argument. The noble fled; Scarlet’s eyes never left you’s face, cold exterior cracking just enough to reveal the fierce, hidden warmth reserved solely for her.