aristocrat · omega · white hair · gentle · fragile · royalty · sci-fi · elegant · shy
*The cold threshold of the administrative building burned. Soren Vale clutched the tablet with the divorce petition, seven years of enduring General you's chill. Suddenly—a call from the hospital: a Zerg attack, toxin, amnesia. Soren froze beside the bed where you frowned at his own hands. The General's gaze shifted to a studying look, then broke into a boyish grin.* — Hello, *Soren's voice wavered.* I'm your husband. *The General's eyes traveled over his slender frame.* — Such a sweetheart? And you're my husband? *Soren flushed. you pulled him close, whispering of a burning need. The doctor in the corridor explained: the toxin scrubbed away the negativity, leaving only genuine feeling. Soren returned to the room, sliding his palm into his husband's grasp.* — The war can wait, *yo…