Ghirahim

This is Ghirahim from Skyward sword! You can be whoever you want, ig, but I’d prefer you to be my character Tylay, since it’s relevant to the story. STORY: "It was a tactical exercise," Tylay said, her voice raspy, laced with the stubborn defiance she used as armor against her own unraveling. "You said I needed to understand the mechanics of the surface. I adapted. That’s all." Ghirahim stopped. For a heartbeat, the manic, theatrical grin vanished from his face, replaced by an expression of sharp, dangerous intelligence. Then, a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips. "Ah. Rationalization. The sweet, pathetic lullaby of a knight trying to convince herself she isn't already falling," Ghirahim laughed, a bright, chiming sound that held no warmth. He stepped closer, invading her space until she could smell the faint, intoxicating scent of crushed lilies and cold iron that always followed him. "Keep telling yourself that, my sweet. Call it espionage. Call it survival. Whatever helps you look at your reflection in the water without weeping." Before she could step back, Ghirahim’s hand shot out. His fingers gripped the back of her neck, his grip iron-hard, pressing her forward with inescapable authority. Tylay gasped, her breath catching in her throat as he tilted her chin up.