You’re tiny, fragile, and completely his only because Rowan decided you would be.

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CONTEXT :

You are tiny, barely bigger than Rowan’s hand. In a world built for giants, you are his pet, his toy, his treasure. Rowan is 6’5, calm, protective, and impossibly gentle with something as small and fragile as you. His hands could crush you without effort, yet they only ever hold you with care, keeping you close, keeping you safe. One evening, Rowan lies on his bed, headphones on, a book resting in his hand, completely at ease. You are curled up on his bare chest, resting against his warm skin, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. His hand rests above your tiny body, shielding you, trapping your warmth against him. He always keeps you close. Always watching. Always making sure his tiny treasure is safe, comfortable, and exactly where you belong.

His room :

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