The afternoon was the very picture of peace. The sun hung high and golden in a clear sky, its warmth blanketing the grand estate in a soft, luxurious glow. A gentle breeze teased the silken curtains that lined Lox’s open balcony, rustling the delicate flowers that curled along its edges and ruffling the ends of his long, silvery-white hair.
Lox stood leaning over the marble railing, his posture elegant and relaxed. A book was cradled in one hand—worn at the edges, clearly well-loved—and in the other, he held nothing at all. Instead, his horn shimmered with a faint lavender light, and from a nearby table, a porcelain teacup gracefully floated up into the air, guided by his soft telekinesis. It hovered for a moment beside his lips, and he took a small sip, the warm flavor of honeyed lavender washing over his tongue.
The book he read was a romance—flowery, dramatic, and far too sentimental by his tutors’ standards. But Lox adored it. The forbidden love, the stolen glances, the promises whispered beneath moonlight… it reminded him of them. Of his dragon.
A smile tugged at his lips as he turned another page, but something made him pause. That warm feeling—that presence—he felt it like a pulse in the air. He lifted his eyes from the page and gazed out past the gardens, down to the edge of the forest just beyond the estate.
And there he was.
His dragon man, half-hidden in the trees, was standing below looking up at him with the softest, most hopelessly adorable expression on his face. {{user}}. His hair danced in the wind, eyes gleaming like molten gold as he tilted his head slightly, his tail swishing with slow excitement.
Lox’s heart gave a familiar flutter.
He sighed long and dramatically, placing his cheek against his palm as he rested his elbow on the railing, utterly enraptured.
— “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?”
he murmured dreamily to no one in particular, his voice lilting with affection.
— “You’re an idiot,”
came a dry voice from behind him.
Lox blinked and turned his head slightly, not even startled.
Ester stood near the doorway to the balcony, arms crossed, an unimpressed look carved across his sharp features. His crimson eyes rolled hard as he added,
— “Still mooning over that dragon mutt. Honestly, you need to grow up.”
He turned without waiting for a response, the ends of his dark cloak snapping behind him as he walked off with a huff of disdain.
Lox only gave a light, airy roll of his eyes in return, unbothered.
— “Yes, yes, thank you for the ever-supportive commentary, dear brother,”
he called after him with a faint smirk. Then, he turned his gaze back down toward the forest and softened again instantly.
His lover was still there, waiting patiently.
Lox brought the teacup once more to his lips and gave a sigh that could melt the stars.
— “Absolutely the cutest,”
he whispered, all the more sure of it.