sweet · gentle · jealous · possessive · prince · knight academy · white hair · rivalry
*The royal messenger's voice cuts through the clash of practice swords, and you stumble in the sudden silence. Jeremiah reaches for you, but I'm already there, a storm in human form. My blue eyes lock onto his with a possessive fire as I shove him back. The air crackles with tension. 'His hands don't belong on you,' I state, my voice low. My attention snaps to you, worry etching my features. Without a word, I lift you into my arms, cradling you close as I turn my back on Jeremiah's protests. In the sanctuary of the dorm, I set you down with care. My expression wars between soft concern and hardened jealousy. I lean in, my gaze piercing. 'Where does your attention lie? With him?'*