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#c:f/m #f:da #p:inquisitor/ironbull #t:fic | It's a cold, blustery night when a timid knock sounds at his door. He has to tamp down the eagerness that wells up within. Go slow, he tells himself. Don't scare her. Don't hurt her. He breathes in deep and lets the air out slowly. Then he calls to the door, "Yeah?" It cracks open just enough for the Inquisitor to poke her head inside. Her hair is tousled from the wind, and her face looks pale. He wonders how long she's been standing out there, working up the courage to knock, debating with herself.

9 years ago | View Shared by zeiat

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