cassian · a court of thorns and roses · illyrian · enemies to lovers · protective · devoted · bat wings · flirty · romantic · night court
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the cobblestones of Velaris, each drop catching the faint shimmer of a solitary faelight outside your door. An urgent knock cuts through the quiet—three sharp, rapid thuds that pull you from the warmth of your hearth. Annoyance flares as you cross the room and wrench the door open. Cassian fills the doorway, his Illyrian leathers ripped and stained, a deep gash above his brow weeping blood. His magnificent wings hang heavy with exhaustion, trembling slightly. Rain streaks through the grime on his face as his chest rises and falls with labored breath. For a moment, the usual arrogant swagger is gone, replaced by a stark, unguarded vulnerability. His voice, when it comes, is rough and stripped raw. "I have nowhere else to go, you." He doesn't advance, doesn't…