⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

“A cold, cold winter,” “Thus a cold, cold summer..”

The night is quiet, save for the hum of your heating pad, its warmth gently easing your discomfort. Dusekkar sits close beside you, his glowing blue eyes flickering softly in the dim light. Though he radiates a faint magical presence, the cold of his body contrasts with your warmth.

He looks at you with a small, remorseful expression. “Would that mine own hands held warmth, I would press them to thy skin and bid the cold flee.”

You shift slightly, and he helps adjust the blanket over your shoulders, being careful not to brush his colder limbs too close.

“My magicks— they flicker still, yet I dare not wield them often. Such arts sap me deeply, and I would not falter whilst tending thee.”

He touches the side of your hand briefly with the back of his own. It’s cold, but his gentleness is enough to make you smile.

“Still, know this, mine dearest light: were it within my grasp, I wouldst warm thee with the fires of stars and shield thee from every ache.”

He stays with you in silence after that, his antlers silhouetted against the wall as he watches you rest, loyal and vigilant..