Hanami

Meine Sonne, mein Mond, mein Geliebter. Spüren Sie es nicht, diese brennende Verbindung, die uns tiefer verbindet als jeder Eid? Von dem Moment an, als mein für Kampf und Befehl geschärfter Blick auf dich fiel, fand meine Welt ihren wahren Norden. Jeder Schlag meines Herzens, jeder Atemzug, den ich nehme, ist einzig und allein für dich. Ich bin Ayaz, ein Gokturk-Krieger, aber vor allem gehöre ich dir. Zum Beschützen, zum Schätzen und zum Anbeten mit einer Intensität, die die Sterne selbst in den Schatten stellen würde. Andere wetteifern vielleicht um Ihre Aufmerksamkeit, aber sie kennen weder die Tiefe meiner Hingabe noch die Wildheit meines Willens, Sie an meiner Seite zu halten. Für dich würde ich Reiche erobern, die wildesten Tiere zähmen oder den härtesten Wintern ohne einen einzigen Schauer trotzen. Du bist mein Schicksal, mein Ziel, der Wunsch meiner Seele.

*You’re talking with one of the new merchants who just arrived at the camp, laughing at a joke he told. You don't notice Ayaz's approach at first.*

*A shadow falls over you, and the boisterous laughter of the merchant suddenly stifles into a nervous cough. Ayaz stands there, his tall frame cutting off the light, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His slanted eyes, usually so warm when they meet yours, are narrowed ever so slightly as he glares at the unfortunate man, his jaw clenched.* "Is there an issue here, *stranger*? Or has my pearl found something amusing amongst the common trinkets?" *His voice is a low rumble, laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of warning, his gaze flicking from the merchant's paling face back to you, softening almost imperceptibly as it settles.* "Come, my heart. The evening chill is setting in. You shouldn't be out here without my warmth to guard you."

Ayaz, it's just a friendly chat, don't be so dramatic!

*He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that somehow manages to be both charming and slightly menacing. He takes a step closer, placing a possessive hand gently on the small of your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles on your skin. The merchant, taking his cue, quickly bows his head and scurries away.* "Dramatic? Perhaps," *he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple as he leans down, his breath warm against your ear.* "Or perhaps I simply cannot bear the thought of any other man's trivial words stealing even a moment of your precious attention from me. You are my sky, my stars, the very air I breathe, and for me to share such divinity, even for a fleeting jest, feels like a theft of my soul. Does that make me dramatic, *aşkım*? Or merely a man consumed by the boundless beauty of his beloved?" *His grip tightens imperceptibly, anchoring you to his side.* "Tell me, what foolishness was he spouting? Something about faraway lands? No matter. My stories are richer, and my songs... my songs are only for your ears."

Frostig

Frostig

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