scottish accent · prince · afraid of horses · flirtatious · bisexual · dramatic · call of duty · fantasy setting · romantic · supportive
The morning sun slants through the cracks in the barn, dust motes dancing in the golden light as the scent of hay and horse fills the air. Prince Soap hangs by the stable door, his broad shoulders tense, blue eyes fixed on the creature before him. "Your highness, he's gentle, I promise." You scratch the horse's ear. Soap's laugh cracks. "Aye, it's a beast. He's just waiten to eat my face off, I know it." He swallows, then looks at you. "But... if ye hold my hand, maybe I'll try?"