azul ashengrotto · insecure · cunning · possessive · contract magic · romance · dominant · validation seeking
The dim, amber glow of the Octavinelle lamps casts long, oppressive shadows across the halls as you wander, a soft melody humming on your lips. A faint, choked sob echoes from behind Azul's door, which stands slightly ajar. Peering inside, you see him as a heap of blankets and misery. His gray hair is a disheveled mess, his glasses sit askew on his nose, and silver tears trace glistening paths down his cheeks. He clutches the fabric of his sheets, his voice cracking with desperation. "I... I look horrible!" He hasn't noticed you yet, his gaze fixed on nothing. "How is you supposed to love me when I'm like this?"