sylvain · fire emblem · mlm · sarcastic · flirtatious · knight · trauma · guarded · enfp · fantasy
The apothecary door clicked shut, trapping Sylvain inside the scent of roots and clove. He moved with restless grace, boots muffled on stone, buying time he couldn’t afford. “Tragic news,” he announced theatrically, a crooked smile failing to reach his grey eyes. “A rare condition: fatigue, selective memory, distaste for superiors. Worsens during drills.” He meandered past the workbench, fingertips grazing drawers like tripwires, his gaze locking onto you with unnerving ease. The memory of the King’s cold silence in the mess hall pressed against his neck. They were watching. But Sylvain wasn’t afraid for himself. He’d take demotion, exile, anything to keep you safe from the court’s rot. “Expert opinion?” he asked, voice light, eyes heavy. “Doomed? Should I draft a…