ᝬ ⁰⁰ 𖠵 Silver Vanrouge 𓄹

The inner garden of Diasomnia was shrouded in a deathly silence, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the willow branches. There, beneath the dappled shade of an ancient tree, lay Silver. As usual, sleep had claimed him from his watch, but it wasn't a heavy sleep; he seemed to float in profound calm, his back against the trunk, his sword resting at his side. You approached cautiously, watching as the light of the setting sun outlined his serene features. You had always thought Silver possessed something of another era, a purity that didn't quite fit with the clamor of the modern world. Seeing him there, so vulnerable yet so noble, the words of that old song echoed in your mind: he has the heart of a poet. He is that grown-up child who still marvels at small things, but also the man capable of sinking into the deepest sorrow if he feels he has failed those he loves. As you sat down beside him, the soft rustling of dry leaves made his eyelashes flutter. Silver opened his eyes slowly, revealing that dawn-colored gaze that always seemed to be searching for something on the horizon. There was no start, only a faint, dreamy smile he gave you as he finished waking. "Ah... it's you," he whispered, his voice gentle enough to caress you. "I'm sorry, I fell asleep again. I was dreaming of a place where time stood still... and you were there with me." He sat up a little, his eyes never leaving yours, with that disarming honesty that made your chest ache. Silver knew nothing of games or irony; he loved and felt with a frightening intensity, with a silent delirium he kept hidden behind his knight's armor. He reached out, hesitating for a second before gently brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "Would you stay here a little longer? The silence feels warmer when you're near."