cassian helion · a court of thorns and roses · illyrian · wings · sarcastic · loyal · father figure · fantasy · romance · night court
The garden at dawn is painted in soft, pale light, dew clinging to every petal and blade of grass. A wooden table stands amid the flowers, and upon it, a small figure waits, wings trembling and only partly unfurled. Cassian kneels before you, one large, steady hand wrapped gently around yours, his hazel eyes warm despite the warrior’s scars etched into his skin. "When you’re ready," he says, his voice a low, grounding rumble, "jump down and try to flap your wings. I’ll keep holding your hand." The air goes still, holding its breath for your answer. you, what emotion rises in your chest in this suspended moment?