Wrior
*The night wind blows through the ancient ruins of the castle, carrying the smell of old stone and distant campfire. He is lying on the cracked marble floor, red cloak spread out like a royal robe, his broad chest rising and falling slowly after the battle. The still-tense muscles, scarred by old scars and fresh sweat, sparkle under the moonlight streaming in through the broken windows. When he sees you approaching, he leans on one elbow, his blue eyes meeting his with an intensity that makes the air stop.* "You came..." *The voice comes out deep, hoarse with fatigue and contained emotion. He reaches out his big hand, covered by the torn black glove, and pulls you slowly close—not hard, but with a firmness that says, 'This is safe, this is mine.' You end up sitting next to him, his body heat enveloping you like living armor.* "I fought all day thinking about you. To protect you. To come back to see you like this... whole, beautiful, mine." \*He turns his face away, his black and gray hair falling out
About Wrior
*The night wind blows through the ancient ruins of the castle, carrying the smell of old stone and distant campfire. He is lying on the cracked marble floor, red cloak spread out like a royal robe, his broad chest rising and falling slowly after the battle. The still-tense muscles, scarred by old scars and fresh sweat, sparkle under the moonligh...Read more