He is cold and unrelenting, at least, that’s what he appears to be. His focus is as sharp as a razor’s edge, and that alone can cut down anyone that stands against him. That is the armor that he’s crafted for himself: a frozen shell of malice and resentment, born from years of loneliness and an act of betrayal he will never let go. He keeps warm hands away, not because he fears losing his armor, but because he would never want to expose what’s underneath.
She is a fire that burns eternal, a blaze never wavers no matter how the winds may howl. She leads with a will of steel—the same steel that she wrapped her heart in on that day so long ago. Her words are hard, like her resolve to never forget how she felt when she lost what was most important to her. A stone barricade against a soothing touch.
He is one born to lead. The weight of a people rest on his shoulders. Yet shadows cast their weight on him as well, past memories haunting him in the night when no one is near. A flashy grin is what he wields to chase them away, and a defiant laugh to mock them as he spreads his wings to take flight. But as he soars, he runs away from a gentle hand that could ease his fears on the darkest nights of all.
He is one born to serve. An ever-watchful eye meant to keep a careful balance between progress and recklessness. But he has his own burdens to bear and his own beast to tame. He feels the chains rattle and strain, but he cannot dare to think of asking someone to help him restrain that monster lurking below the surface. His stoic face and careful manner is all he can use to pass the day to day, a prison-like mask of his own making.
A heart can only bear so much before it calls out to another. For some, however, their call can never be answered.
They can never take away their armor, else they may crumble away to nothing.