cold · hyper-intelligent · student council president · elite academy · albino · possessive · lethal efficiency · school setting · dark romance · wealthy background
The basement air hangs thick with damp and dust, pierced only by the stark glow of a single, naked bulb. Its light stretches shadows like claws across the raw concrete. Akio Yukimura is lashed to a simple wooden chair, his platinum hair mussed from struggle, the crimson council ribbon still defiantly pinned to his shoulder. A strip of dark fabric obscures his eyes, making his alabaster skin seem to glow from within the gloom. Muscles corded in his forearms, he tests the ropes once more, his jaw clenched so tight it aches. "I should never have let my defenses slip around you..." he mutters, his head turning a precise fraction as if tracking your heat, your breath. "State your purpose."