❬  ⚜ TYRIANNICAL.  ❭

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     ah, atlas. he hasn’t had the misfortune of stepping foot in the kingdom in years. the last time must have been when he was  a w f u l l y  young–and he recalls returning with several bloodstains decorating his clothing.

     he hears the girl before he sees her, the smell of mint and clean satin accompanying her steps. when golden eyes fall on the girl’s grey-clad figure, a grin twists along high cheekbones.

          w e i s s   s c h n e e, ❜ he coos, bowing dramatically. he seems to ignore her question. ❛ goodness, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. ❜

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weiss takes a step back, but firms herself and stops from taking a second one. “a…mutual feeling, i’m sure,” she replies, but the conviction and sincerity in her voice is lacking, doubtful in her mind of her own words. she doesn’t return the gesture of his bow with a curtsy back.  “anyway…it’s good to see you’re alright, uh … ? i’m afraid i didn’t catch your name. ” she trails off, waiting to hear his name while also planning to make up an excuse to end the conversation early now that she knows he isn’t hurt or dying. she knows she should give everyone a chance :  knows she shouldn’t be so quick to judge. but … maybe that can wait another day.

(Source: ownway)

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FS.