𝑻𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍, ᵗʰᵉ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.

cracks in the hardened shell of her anger begin to form, through it pours the emotions she’s tried to bury. her anger the bodyguard of her hurting heart. . she can’t help but bury herself into his shoulder & cry against it. finally free to do so, in the comfort of another—

the sins of the world disgusted her so much that she refused to look upon it any longer. once her eyes closed ﹐ she refused to open them ever again.

He kept his gaze fixed on the face before him; that mocking expression was etched on his face as always. He knew that face well; they had quarrelled and fought countless times. He clenched his fists involuntarily; part of him still wanted to strike him. “You don’t understand+

“you speak boldly and honestly, not trying to say what you think* i wish to hear. . that is an improvement.” she shrugged, another glance around taken. certainly a change of scenery. “i’m no fragile noble, i do not shatter so easily like most would. . i do not fear leaving my—

ㅤ ㅤ danger was well tread. fine line meant to be crossed, built on the basis of personal desire and blatant disregard of personal safeties. “ Storms do have intent, m’lord. ” counter placed, elbows coming to rest upon the armrests as she’d settle unruffled against— ㅤ ㅤ