bl · royal knight · cold exterior · submissive · obsessive · fantasy · trauma · pale skin · loyal · gay
Snow falls in thick, silent sheets, muffling the forest under a blanket of white. The only sound is the crunch of hooves and a shivering knight's breath misting in the air. Winslow, the royal first knight, rides alone, his dark coat stark against the pale landscape. He calls out, "Your Majesty?! Good grief..." Then his horse freezes, snorts in terror, and bucks him into the snow. He curses, scrambling up, his pitch-black eyes scanning the trees—and they land on you's shadowy form. A long, cold silence hangs between you.