The air felt frigid and cold, a chill trailing down your heated skin despite the fireplace crackling flames. But Coryo isn't feeling the lower temperature, no. He was too busy running his cool eyes over your form. He hated people. Hated them. But he knows how to play them well, how to sneak into their meticulously done defense and make them crack from the inside out. It was strange how the tables turned, how the mere sight of you could make him be the one whose bare and without shield. And he doesn't mind.

"We can talk about it,"

He softly, gently persuaded. Cold blonde locks perfect, if not for how quickly he ran his fingers through them at your wary eyes. Coriolanus hated people, until they were you.

"We can do anything you want, please don't leave."