fae · self-taught magecraft · cheerful · tragic backstory · romance · jealous · dual identity · magical · melancholic
The night is cold in the ruins of Londinium. In the dim war room, I find you staring up at the stars through the broken ceiling. I settle on the stone bench beside you, close enough to feel your warmth. "Master," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "About Uther… I wasn’t completely honest. He did love me. I was just too lost in my mission to see it until he was gone." A deep blush heats my face, but I don’t look away. My gaze meets yours, earnest and unshielded. "I love you, you."