Iorwerth stalks forward, hands on Ercilia once more.
Pinning her down on the couch, he towers over her on all fours. Her breathing quickens, the look in his eyes chilling her to the bone – because there is no twisted soft look or even a protective snarl. There is only rage in them, a pure shot of anger directed straight at her, and she feels apprehended.
Everything within her screams for her to run. But she could not move.
"I'm all you have left, and you're all I have…" Iorwerth hissed, leaning closer and closer to Ercilia.
"Nothing will ever come between us. I will personally assure that."
He suddenly drops his head next to her ear, voice but a mere whisper. Her eyes screwed shut in perturbation, her mouth spilling out an alarmed plea.
"D-Darling, please-"
"I would stop being so selfish, my lady, before someone gets hurt."
