The Bitter Part Sent MeThank You So Much For Putting Licht And Nokto In - Tumblr Posts

A/N: This was my contribution to the @flash-exchange content creation challenge over on discord. My "victim" was @olivermorningstar. I had the prompt: Sweet, Sour, Bitter

Sariel x Reader

WC: 373 (We had a limit of about 400 words, which for me was the hardest part of this challenge 😆)

Sweet: the way his amethyst eyes light up when you enter the room; the feel of his fingers brushing yours as he passes you another document to read, another book to learn from; the tilt of his lips when you say something clever (or something sarcastic) that he just can't suppress; the short inhale of breath when you look up and catch him staring at you; the way you feel when your eyes lock and you feel like the tide being drawn by the pull of the luminous moon; the Sariel scent of parchment and musk that lingers in the air like wisps of smoke after a fire; the way your heart is buoyed by the sight of him across a room, dark head bent as he confers with one prince or another; the rich, deep tone of his voice like coalfire embers; the sweet yearning that fills you whenever he’s near.

Sour: the endless lessons, the non-stop drills, the testing testing testing of your mind; have you done enough, have you proven yourself, have you satisfied all his demands; the disappointment in his eyes when you haven’t; the ache of humiliation and remorse when you see the way his gaze drops, his head shakes; the way his hand unconsciously presses against his stomach  whenever a prince (usually Clavis) causes trouble; the sure-footed way he manages to navigate the machinations of court life even when it comes at great cost to him; the dark rings shadowing his beautiful eyes; the sour, forbidden yearning that fills you whenever he is near.

Bitter: the way he must acquiesce to those less intelligent simply because of his station; the ghosts that haunt the violet mansion of his gaze when he hears Licht sigh sadly; the turbulent ocean in his heart when he observes Nokto and his mask of flippant carelessness; the never-ending list of things you still need to know, things you have not yet mastered; the pressure on his shoulders to make sure you make the right decision, the one that will steer the direction of the entire country; the delicate (and at time, indelicate) work he does in the shadows, away from the harsh light of day and its judgements; the bitter yearning that fills you whenever he is near.

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