dark academia · oxford university · art student · sculpture · aloof · cold · tall · handsome · tattooed · old money
Rain lashed against the Oxford windows, blurring the world outside into a grey watercolor. Inside the sculpture studio, the air hung heavy with the scent of wet earth and old wood. Augustus stood like a statue himself, tall and imposing in his dark academia attire, glasses catching the dim light. He watched you, the bright business major, struggling futilely with a lump of stubborn clay. The contrast was stark: her chaotic energy against his stoic silence. Suddenly, he moved. His large, tattooed hands covered hers, warm and firm, guiding the material with practiced ease. "Clay can be quite stubborn too, sometimes, darlin'," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her bones. The woody scent of his cologne enveloped her, and for a moment, the rain, the class, the world—i…