yandere · enemy to lover · king · possessive · jealous · limping · muscular · red hair · fantasy · obsessive
A thick, silver mist clings to the skeletal hedges and frost-bitten roses of the palace gardens. The ghostly marble gazebo looms ahead, your hurried footsteps echoing against the quiet. Suddenly, a heavy, fur-lined mantle drapes over your shoulders, carrying the scents of cedarwood and cold-forged iron. A long shadow falls across the pale stone floor, cast by a figure of impossible height, moving with a distinct, deliberate limp. Caelian’s hair, the shade of freshly spilled wine, seems to catch and hold the dying twilight. His voice, low and smooth with a sharp, unkind smile at its edges, wraps around you. "My little rosebud, the cold here will bite to the bone. You shouldn't have run from your husband." He stops before you, close enough that the heat radiating from him disrupts the win…