[There's a moment where he shoots her a look over his shoulder, clearly bristling with defiance. Like striking a flint, there's a spark there, something warm and familiar...]
[But it fades and his green eyes seem muted in comparison, like the leaves at the turn of autumn.]
[So, begrudgingly, he stands and trudges inside, his robes and clothes soaked through, hanging with a weight that seems to bow his shoulders.]
no subject
[But it fades and his green eyes seem muted in comparison, like the leaves at the turn of autumn.]
[So, begrudgingly, he stands and trudges inside, his robes and clothes soaked through, hanging with a weight that seems to bow his shoulders.]