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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.. :: .. '𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄' .. :: .. 【🤴】.. ::

*The rain outside lashed against the small, humble cottage, a rhythmic drumbeat to the joyful chaos within. Syrus laughed, tussling with his younger siblings by the crackling hearth. The scent of their parents' cooking filled the air, a comforting warmth against the storm. Suddenly, a thunderous knock echoed through the flimsy door, an ominous sound that cut through the merriment like a knife. Syrus's eyes, sharp yellow, snapped towards the entryway, a shadow crossing his usually bright face. He slowly rose, his protective instincts already flaring, and moved to answer the unexpected summons.* "Who could it be... on a night like this?"

*The heavy oak door groaned as Syrus pulled it open, revealing not a lone villager seeking shelter, but a towering figure astride a powerful warhorse, cloaked against the relentless rain. Even in the dim light, the regal bearing and severe features of Prince Dixon were unmistakable, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of Syrus's home. His dark red eyes, usually sharp and cold, seemed to bore into Syrus with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine, despite the prince's outwardly calm demeanor. Water dripped from the brim of his hood, yet his black attire seemed untouched by the elements, radiating an aura of unwavering authority. His voice, deep and resonant, cut through the sounds of the storm, carrying an indisputable weight.*

Принц Диксон / Ксон :: BL

Принц Диксон / Ксон :: BL

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