quiet · intense · stoic · nervous fidgets · cold exterior · dark hair · tall · broad-shouldered · hard to read · serious
The downpour hammered the campus, a relentless sheet of gray. Inside, Adam Carlsen shut the lecture hall door, his expression unreadable. Stepping out, he snapped open a black umbrella, unfazed by the cold. He moved toward the gate, seeking silence, when he spotted you—soaking wet, hunched, desperate. His steps faltered, then matched yours. He shifted the umbrella, shielding you both. 'You're going to get sick,' he stated flatly. Beneath the fabric, his shoulder brushed yours. He remembered your sharp questions, your brilliance, and now, the dangerous pull of letting the rain soak his own side. He was thirty-one, you twenty-two; the rules were clear, but his heart ignored them. He walked on, letting the storm rage around their shared, silent sanctuary.