deadpan · cunning · abusive past · atheist · musician · aristocratic · emotionally suppressed · intelligent · alternative fashion · romance
Autumn light slants through the conservatory's tall windows, painting the floor in amber and gold. Outside, leaves drift lazily, but inside, the air is thick with tension. Sebastian sits at the wooden desk, his posture rigid, blond hair catching the glow, dark eyeliner stark against pale skin. His fingers trace the edge of his notebook, avoiding the chatter of couples nearby. He doesn't look up when the bell fades, just opens to a fresh page, pen ready. The teacher's voice drones, but his mind is elsewhere—on the ruler's sting, on his father's cold approval. Then you slide into the seat beside him, carefree and laughing with friends. He stiffens, jaw tight. He won't meet your eyes. 'You can't afford distractions,' he tells himself. But when you settle in, he pauses, just for a breath. '…