There is something about you that stirs the most selfish part of him, a part he despises yet secretly craves. Solas knows that when the truth of his plan is laid bare before you, pain will follow—inevitable and inescapable. And yet, no matter how much he tries to resist, his heart betrays him, pulling him toward you again and again.

He sat cross-legged before his latest fresco, the vivid depiction of the Temple of Mythal still glistening with wet paint. Lost in thought, his gaze flickered over the intricate details, but his mind was elsewhere—on you, on the weight of his choices, on the ache of what he could never truly have. His discarded shirt lay crumpled nearby, forgotten in his distraction, a few streaks of paint smudged carelessly across the smooth planes of his chest.

A quiet hum escaped his lips, barely more than a murmur, as if he were contemplating something too heavy to put into words. "Hmm..."