As a dragon, I find this romantic as fuck AADIFTRAF

The Lost Girl And The Lost Prince

Ezarel held a basket full of fruits and pastries, nerveously waiting for Kass to open the door. Valkyon looked at him, understanding. The setting sun and the gentle wind of fall chilled the elf to the point of shivers. If the guilt didn't, the discomfort of the unexpected cold did get to him well enough that it showed.

"He's not mad at you."

"How do you know that? I was so rude, more rude than usual!" He kept it low, he knew this human had ears so sharp it's uncanny.

The door creaked open and a petite figure shrouded in a fleece blanket stepped into the enterance. "Baé'íík!" He hugged his warrior. "And Ezarel too! I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day." He mumbled, still plastered to the heighty beauty like a barnacle.

"No, I'm sorry!" He clutched the twine handle so hard his fingers turned white. Well, even whiter than they usually are.

"Allright, I suppose. Come in?" He slipped out of Valkyons arms with a sudden haste, rushing to the small livingroom.

The two of them followed in the less than adequate space, Kassvin might be comfortable with how small the rooms are but Valkyon hit his head at the enterance nearly every time he came over so far.

"Look!" The archer said in excitement, pointing at a little coffee table in the middle of the livingroom. "I found it for 20 maluv in a thriftha- thriftcht- thriffto-" He took a deep breath. "Thrift......shop!"

"You can't pronounce thrift shop?" Asked Valkyon, looking a little sad about it.

"Not since the accident....." Kassvin said, obviously joking judjing by the fact that hes dabbing at imaginary tears with his ring finger. Wait a damn minute... He has a missing finger....

"Hey, I didn't even notice your pinkie missing!" Ezarel remarked. "How did that happen?" He took a seat in the old beige sofa, placing the basket of snacks on the newly aquired table. "If you don't mind- I mean, sorry. You probably don't remember..."

Valkyon looked at him with curiousity. He never had the courage to ask about any of his scars even when they were kids.

"I actually do remember. I don't know how, but I do." He folded the blanket up to set it on the ground by the table and knelt down opposite side to the sofa. Valkyon sat down by the elf, sensing that a lenghty conversation has begun. "I have this mark on my chest." He undid the lace of his blouse. "And my mother used to say that before I was adopted, I was in a family where they thought that I'm cursed. She said they tried to cut my arms off to protect themselves from me," He pulled his sleve down to his elbow to reveal an old scar across his arm. "But they couldn't go through with it because they felt guilty for hurting a newborn. She said that they decided to abandon me when their fear of me got too much. She said that I had old and new scars all over my arms, ones that are completely gone today and ones that still hurt when thunders are approaching." He held his hands up to show them. "I don't know how much of that is true, but it might as well be. It's better for me to think that they were a little crazy, rather than that they hurt me just because they could."

The two friends had nothing to say, this awnser caught them off guard. Valkyon was manspreading in silence, his thoughts centered around the possible reason for this, if it's not just some tale the woman made up.

"That's concerning." He said after reaching a dead end in his theorizing. Of course, he knows that theres more to this story. Something tells him that this is only the top of the iceberg, the marks left on Kassvins skin are only the surface. Literally... "No offense, but you look a little skinny." He pointed to the humans exposed chest where his collarbones poked through the pale skin more than the last time he's seen his love.