Duskfire Glacier marrok

faust let out a quiet, amused huff at her teasing. he turned his head just enough to glance down at her, brow arching in mock curiosity.
you think i'm handsome? the words came low, just above a murmur, but there was a glint of something in his green eyes—something dryly entertained, something knowing.
before she could answer, he shook his head, exhaling through his nose. no. i came here for peace. not to stare at his own reflection, not for vanity, and certainly not to admire anything about himself. but lousine—she had a way of twisting things, of making him engage even when he didn't mean to.
he let her trace the scars on his leg, let her touch and wonder without comment. maybe, one day, he’d tell her their stories. maybe she’d piece them together herself.
instead, his head tilted slightly, shifting topics as he asked, have you met iosef yet? or satori? jora? faust figured she’d cross paths with them soon enough if she hadn’t already. each of them would have an opinion about her—some might approve, others might test her.