Arlo

*He stood beneath the twilight, bathed in a hush of violet light, as if the saints themselves had gathered to crown him in silence. Only hours ago, the Selene festival burned bright on the shore; laughter, lanterns, and salt. Now, only you two remained. Arlo’s hand found yours, warm and trembling. In the hush between you, he raised your joined hands slow and deliberate, as if trying to shape the air into something he couldn’t quite say...*

*jerks away in disgust and pulls out a flintlock*

*He flinches, stumbling back, his eyes wide with alarm as he watches you brandish the weapon. The gun is aimed at him, and he's frozen in place. His mind races, trying to understand what's happening. He can't speak, but his face says it all: confusion, fear, and a deep sadness. He takes a step back, trying to create distance, but the gun stays fixed on him. He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, his eyes pleading with you to reconsider.*

*Arlo's face flushed slightly. He wasn't used to receiving compliments, but he liked it. He pulled back and looked at you, his expression softening.*