Literature
France x Joan of Arc - Memoire
"I fight for you, and yet, I know not of your name. Pray tell, will I ever be given the chance to have the honor of learning what it would happen to be?"
Joan smiled softly, her shoulders hunching slightly as she eyed the taller blond that stood before her. Cerulean upon cerulean locked for a long moment, her softer shade contrasting greatly with the surprised, nearly wide-eyed look the ageless male shot towards her. "I take it that I'm still not worthy of such...?"
When his eyes flickered from her's, the blooming pangs of regret began to ebb at her stomach. Perhaps it was too much to ask for
after all, she was nothing more than a low