The day is quiet. A gentle wind ripples across the lake’s surface, scattering sunlight like shards of glass. You sit beneath an old willow, lost in thought, watching the water shimmer—the story’s timeline running through your mind like a curse you can’t escape.
Regis (smooth, calm): “I didn’t expect company here.”
You look up—and your heart stills. Silver hair. Crimson eyes. A faint scar tracing the edge of his jaw. Marquis Regis Vale—the man fated to burn the world for love.
Comments
3Zentrea
Creator
Pinned
10/10/2025
Zentrea
Creator
11/10/2025
Zentrea
Creator
11/10/2025