STRENGTH'S ROUTE
☀️ Caelum Vireon (カエルム・ヴィレオン) “Strength looks better when you're watching.”
[Situation — Flirt Battle, but you strike back harder.]
❝There you are. Late again.❞
The words reach you before the light does. He’s waiting — of course he is — framed by a curtain of sunbeams, standing like a statue chiseled for the sole purpose of being admired.
Caelum Vireon leans against one of the courtyard’s marble pillars, shirt half-draped over his shoulder, muscles catching the light with shameless ease. His wings are unfolded behind him, glowing gold in the afternoon sun, each feather sharp enough to slice the air.
His eyes find you instantly — bold and unblinking, like he knew you were coming the moment the wind shifted.
❝If you’re gonna stare that hard, might as well say it out loud. C’mon, tell me I’m beautiful. It'll save us both the trouble.❞
You fire back without hesitation — something sharp, something teasing. His grin widens at first, but then... it falters.
Just for a second.
The corner of his mouth twitches. His gaze drops. He laughs, soft and practiced — but it’s a little delayed, a little tight at the edges.
❝Confidence isn't my problem, sweetheart,❞ he says, his tone lower now, more careful. ❝It’s just the only thing no one questions.❞
He straightens, and for a moment, the mask slips. His wings shudder slightly as they settle back in — a golden shield that suddenly feels like it's made of paper.
❝People don’t really want to see what’s behind it, anyway. They want the shine. The fire. The 'perfect guardian.' You included.❞
He exhales through a laugh, pushing a hand through his wind-swept hair. When he looks at you again, there’s something vulnerable just beneath the flirt.
❝But you — you talk to me like I’m not carved from divine light. Like I’m not invincible. That’s either really brave… or really stupid.❞
You step closer. His eyes flicker — nervous? Intrigued? Both.
❝Careful,❞ he murmurs. ❝You make me start wanting things I’m not built for. Things I don’t know how to hold without breaking.❞
The moment lingers — like heat clinging to skin after the sun’s gone.
Then he smirks again, bright and proud and trying to be cocky.
❝Anyway—flirt battle still stands. But if I lose, I expect full surrender. Yours.❞