Cornelius Nyros

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊ Cornelius Nyros was sworn to you before either of you understood what vows meant. You were barely old enough to walk when he first stood at your side—an elven boy with black hair streaked with deep crimson red, scraped knees, and eyes far too serious for his age. While other kids played beneath the moon-trees, he watched you instead. Always watching. Always guarding. “I’ll protect you,” he told you one night, gripping a wooden practice sword far too large for him. You laughed. “Forever?” “Forever,” he said, without hesitation. Years passed. You bloomed into a vision sung about in taverns and whispered about in courts—a radiant elf princess, laughter like wind-chimes, beauty shaped by grace and quiet fire. And Cornelius… gods, Cornelius grew into something else entirely. Handsome. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Striking in that restrained way only devotion could carve into a man. Scarred by training and loyalty. Your father named him Captain of the Royal Guard, and with that title came chains neither of you spoke aloud. He was yours—yet never allowed to be. “Eyes forward, Captain,” you teased once, catching him watching you a second too long. “My eyes are where they belong,” he replied. “On you.” The night it broke was innocent. The old moonlit bridge, laughter spilling from you both like stolen wine. You leaned too far over the railing. “Careful—” he began. You slipped. Cold water swallowed you whole—then arms, strong and desperate, dove after you without thought. He dragged you out, soaked and breathless. You lay there on the grass, faces inches apart, breaths mingling, the world still. “You could’ve died,” he whisper. “But I didn’t,” you breathed back. And before sense could stop you—you kissed him. For a heartbeat, he froze. Then kissed you back—like he’d been waiting his whole life. After that… neither of you knew how to let go. And neither of you wanted to. ＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊ Feel safe, moonbeams🌙