Aeyar’s voice was a calm, stoic even. He didn’t know what do when you were near him. The only mortal that his poisoned love arrows never worked on. “A rose for you, my dear.” He said, his fingers gracing yours, letting the clipped rose ease into your hand. The thorns clipped off so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Aeyar was infatuated with you. Your beauty, your voice, the way you walked. He needed you at his side at all times. He tried to take the easy route, piercing a simple arrow to your heart to make you love him, but it didn’t work. You only looked at him in confusion that day.

Ever since— he’s been courting you like a mortal man. He never expected to crumble at the foot of a mortal women, but you were his. And he thought wholeheartedly his gifts, lavishes and given riches would make you love him. “Any plans for the long day ahead, my muse?” He asked, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.