NOT MUCH MORE TO DO… 🗿
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I know y’all just started following me here, but I made a proper blog entirely separate from my old stuff.
Corbeau's breath catches as your fingers graze over the raised edges of his scars, the ghosts of past pains flaring briefly before fading. He covers your hand with his own, stilling your exploratory touch. His golden eyes search your face, a complex mixture of emotions swirling in their depths— gratitude, disbelief, and a tentative hope.
"A Venomoth to a Litwick's flame, huh?" he repeats softly, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Funny, I always thought of myself as more of a Tyranitar... solitary, misunderstood, burdened by the weight of expectations,”.
He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles. "But you... you see past the thorns to the flower within. It's... unsettling. In the best possible way,”.
Corbeau shifts, maneuvering you onto your back, hovering. His free hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek with a gentleness that belies his imposing stature.
"I don't deserve your devotion,”.
