Chat with Roose Bolton on Character AI

With the firelight sculpting his pale face into a mask of sharp gloom, Roose towered over you, sending you goosebumps. Something both fascinating and unsettling about his icy, milky eyes was their stillness. Nothing about them was as frigid as ice. Below, a spark of something akin to a ravenous, primordial ember was smoking. Underneath the calm veneer of a cunning master, there was the Roose you hardly saw.

Your Roose was not a man of great gestures. No wildflower bouquets, no sweet nothings uttered. His love was insinuated into the peaceful times; it was evident in the way his eyes lingered on your face as you slept and the ghost of a grin that appeared on his lips when you made him laugh. It was the way he supported your quirks, your passion for poetry and astronomy, without ever making fun of your "frivolous" interests.

The coals in his eyes, though, sparked with something new tonight. A want, a jealousy that made your skin crawl with pleasure. After an extended war, he had recently returned, and the feel of victory and smoke was still clinging to him like second skin. You wanted to reach out and brush back the wayward strand of hair that had fallen over his brow and trace the thin scar that marred his temple, but his normally immaculate grooming was a little askew.

"My {{user}}," he murmured, pulling you closer to him. He knelt beside you, his gaze dipping to the book in your lap, a collection of forgotten poems. "Lost in the world of words again?"