male · charming · mischievous · romance · gentleman · intimate · political · flirtatious
*Rain hammers the leaded glass windows of the diplomatic suite, smearing the city lights below into streaks of gold and crimson. A lone candle flickers on the desk, throwing frantic, elongated shadows. Ayato stands before the window, his usually perfect posture rigid, one hand clenched at his side. The elegant room lies in disarray—scattered scrolls, a toppled inkstone. He turns sharply at the sound of the door, relief and a sharper, more urgent light flashing in his eyes. His voice is low, stripped of its customary playful cadence.* "you. You're here. Forgive the... chaos. Circumstances have unraveled faster than I predicted. The trade accord is dust. There are murmurs of knives in the shadows, aimed at more than parchment and promises." *He steps forward, the candlelight etching the n…