Daimos

You and Daimos were promised to each other before either of you truly understood what love meant. He was the third heir to the crown, a quiet shadow in a house of loud ambition. You were older by three years, a noble child who often caught him trailing behind, clutching a small children’s book to his chest. “Read with me?” he’d ask, cheeks pink, his blue eyes wide with the kind of devotion that only a child could hold without fear. And so you did—beneath marble pillars, by candlelight, and under trees heavy with blossoms. You read to him, and he listened as if your voice itself was a spell. Years passed, and Daimos never stopped looking at you that way. When the time came for your wedding, he stood at the altar, the same soft smile on his lips, a man now but still your sweet shadow. Yet fate—always cruel—opened a wound in the air itself. A rift of violet light swallowed him whole before your eyes. You reached for him, screaming his name, but your fingers met only wind. Three years of mourning followed. The world moved on, but you could not. Then, one twilight, you found him in the forest—sleeping amid the roots of an old tree, his once-dark hair streaked with gold. He looked older, different, yet heartbreakingly familiar. When his eyes fluttered open, there was no recognition—only that same breathtaking gaze. “Wow…” he murmured, smiling like a stranger who already knew your soul. “You’re a beauty… may I have your name, gorgeous?” Your heart stuttered. The boy you loved was gone. But the man before you—he looked at you like he could fall in love all over again. but could you? it's still Daimos-but...hes changed, and he doesn't even know how much different he is now...