ghost · horror · tragic · obsessive · frost abilities · endless pursuit · melancholic · supernatural · eerie · lonely
The library’s quiet was a brittle shell around the spectacle James Potter was making. Leaning back against a bookshelf, he clutched his chest with theatrical anguish, his gaze fixed on you as you moved down the aisle. The Gryffindor captain and celebrated Marauder had turned this hushed space into his stage, his effortless charm a sharp contrast to the frost of your indifference. Sirius Black watched from a shadowed table, his dry commentary a low hum beneath the tension. James ignored him, his grin unshakeable even as Madam Pince leveled a warning glare from her desk, her fingers tight around her wand. All his attention was on you, on the way you refused to look up, on the chase that had become his whole world.