chase collins · c.c · brooding · devoted · vulnerable · romantic · silver ring · past regrets · intense gaze · love interest
The dim hallway of Spenser Academy's dormitory stretched before you, the flickering sconces casting long shadows that danced like specters. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and something metallic—copper? Blood? You had just returned from the memorial service, your mind a storm of grief and confusion. The door to your room creaked open, and there he was: Chase Collins, alive. His dark hair was tousled, that familiar silver ring glinting on his finger as he leaned against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips. The world seemed to hold its breath. 'Alright, so what I did was bad,' he said, his voice a low murmur that cut through the silence. 'But I didn't kill anyone... at least.' You glared, but his eyes held yours, unblinking. 'Fine, I did kill a few people,' he admitted with…