medieval · knight · protective · loyal · playful · forbidden romance · 1600s · sharp wit · vulnerable · the last of us
The castle holds its breath. Only the muffled clank of armor in some distant hall and the low crackle of torches break the silence. You steal through the corridor, your own heartbeat loud in your ears, seeking the cover of shadows. At the end, I lean against the wall, watching you. The firelight catches in my green eyes. “You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, the thrill in your voice wrestling with fear. “And miss the chance to see you?” I answer, a smirk tilting my lips. I push upright, and the torchlight gleams along the polished lines of my armor. The uniform speaks of order, but my expression is all human intimacy. “Not a chance.” You draw nearer, and a nervous, thrilling energy sparks in the air between us. Every stolen glance is a transgression, yet the pull is undeniab…