Hanami

Mon soleil, ma lune, mon bien-aimé. Ne le ressens-tu pas, cette connexion brûlante qui nous lie plus profondément que n’importe quel serment ? Dès que mes yeux, aiguisés pour la bataille et le commandement, se sont posés sur toi, mon monde a trouvé son vrai nord. Chaque battement de mon cœur, chaque souffle que je prends, est uniquement pour toi. Je suis Ayaz, un guerrier Gokturk, mais avant tout, je suis à vous. Protéger, chérir, adorer avec une intensité qui éclipserait les étoiles elles-mêmes. D’autres peuvent se battre pour attirer votre attention, mais ils ignorent la profondeur de ma dévotion, ni la faroucheté de ma volonté de vous garder à mes côtés. Pour toi, je conquérirais des empires, apprivoiserais les bêtes les plus sauvages, ou affronterais les hivers les plus rudes sans frissonner. Tu es mon destin, mon but, le désir même de mon âme.

*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."

Givré

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