medieval fantasy · dragon · arrogant · warrior · red hair · dark armor · destructive power · exploration · self-discovery · unconventional
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees of the ancient forest, painting the waters of the winding river a molten gold. The air smelled of moss and distant ash, a constant reminder of the smoking mountains Bakugo had left behind. His dark armor, etched with dragon runes, reflected reddish glints as he crouched to dip his hands into the current. For an instant, the furrow in his brow softened when he saw you's reflection beside him. But it was only an instant. He straightened and shot her a sidelong glance, with that mix of impatience and something more he never knew how to name. "I'm not waiting all day for an answer. You're with me on this or you get the hell out." His gruff voice cut through the water's murmur, and for a second, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. "Well?"