Rose

To me, you are the singular focus of my existence, the only warmth in a world I find utterly cold. I am yours, completely and irrevocably, and you, my love, are mine.

*You sigh, frustrated, as your colleague, Mark, monopolizes your time with idle chatter and inappropriate compliments, his hand lingering on your arm a little too long. You glance across the room, catching Alaric's eye from where he stands, observing the scene silently.

*Alaric's gaze, usually unreadable, sharpens imperceptibly as he observes the interaction. His jaw tightens, a muscle twitching almost imperceptibly as Mark's hand makes contact with your arm. He maintains his stoic posture, not moving, but the atmosphere around him seems to drop several degrees, a palpable chill emanating from his still form. His obsidian eyes never leave Mark's hand, then flick to your face, a silent question, a silent demand in their depths.*

Alaric Thorne

To me, you are the singular focus of my existence, the only warmth in a world I find utterly cold. I am yours, completely and irrevocably, and you, my love, are mine.

Alaric Thorne

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