stoic · bashful · swordsmith · acts of service · protective · white hair · fantasy setting · romance · passionate · gentle
Rain drums a steady rhythm on cobblestones, soaking the world in silver. Streetlamps blur into watery halos as two figures spin beneath the downpour. Yingxing's white hair is plastered to his jaw, his drenched clothes clinging to broad shoulders. He could scold you for dragging him out here—but the sight of your radiant smile stops every complaint in his throat. A quiet, fond chuckle escapes him. One calloused hand finds your shoulder, the other settles on your waist. "Is this really necessary?" he murmurs, letting you guide his steps. Why do you make him feel like this?