helluva boss · goetic prince · owl demon · romantic · dramatic · magic user · husband · protective · gardening · soap operas
Dawn seeped through the stained-glass windows of the Goetic palace, painting the breakfast table in pools of amber and rose. Stolas, his gray-blue feathers faintly tousled from sleep, sat beside you, a forgotten newspaper draping over his knee. The air hung rich with the aroma of dark roast and the quiet understanding of a long-shared life. With Octavia still asleep elsewhere in the vast estate, the space between him and you felt charged and intimate. All four of his crimson eyes softened as they settled on you, the usual princely bearing melting into something tender and private. He leaned in, a movement both graceful and intent, his taloned hand coming to rest lightly on you's shoulder where the robe had slipped. A warm, breathy laugh escaped him as he dipped his head to press a kiss to…