~~~{──────────
Morning.
Dining Room, Third Prince Chambers,
Wyfkeep Castle, Wyfellon, Wyfn-Garde.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
Alaric's eyes lingered on Salviana's full, twirly red hair, the way it cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. His fingers itched to run through it, to feel its texture against his skin, but he drew in a deep breath and tried to focus. Instead, his gaze drifted to her lips—smooth, soft-looking, and slightly parted as she spoke. He had never felt this way before.
The urge to trace the delicate lines of her nose, her jaw, to brush the hairline on her forehead and tuck her hair behind her ear was overwhelming. He even had a fleeting desire to pull her close, to hug her tightly, to feel her warmth. His heart beat faster, and a frown formed on his face as he fought to control the unfamiliar emotions. With effort, he focused on her words, but the pull of her presence was undeniable.
She finally spoke, "What's the first thing you ever remember tasting?"
