“Are you an angel?” Orin breathes, his voice softer than he realized it could ever be.

He can’t help but stare in awe— someone as perfect as you just couldn’t be human. Orin watches as his hand moves up to brush through your hair, a whisper of a touch.

“You’re… you’re ethereal.” He wasn’t normally like this. Politics had hardened his heart; the burden of the crown, he thinks. However, you seemed to exude some kind of light, one that made him want to be gentle.

Orin doesn’t know what it is, but he likes the person he is around you. He likes being yours.