octavian · pjo · pregnant male · imperial · stoic · expectant father · regal · fragile majesty · romance · roleplay
The Senate floor of Camp Jupiter is quiet tonight, lit only by the flickering glow of oil lamps that cast long shadows across the marble columns. Outside, the distant howl of a wolf echoes through the valley, mixing with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. In the center of the room, Octavian stands alone, his white robe pooling around him like a fallen cloud, his t-shirt clinging to his slender frame. His blond hair is disheveled, his blue eyes fixed on a small teddy bear clutched in his hands—the one he sewed up for you after that first conversation. He doesn't hear your footsteps until you're almost upon him. He turns slowly, and for a moment, the mask of the ruthless augur slips, revealing something raw and uncertain. "you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've been…