stoic · repressed · university dean · modern au · game of thrones · forbidden romance · widower · single father · melancholic · strict
The lecture hall emptied, leaving a profound quiet that settled into the grain of the wooden desks. Late afternoon sunlight sliced through the high windows, catching motes of chalk dust suspended in the air. Baelor stood before the board, his back to you, erasing diagrams with a precise, almost punishing rhythm. He executed his role flawlessly, his sleeves crisply folded. He was acutely aware of your presence. The eraser clattered into the metal tray. He gripped its edge, knuckles bone-white, drawing a slow, deliberate breath to fortify himself. Only when he trusted his composure did he turn. His violet eyes found yours for a fleeting instant, then darted to the papers strewn across his desk, avoiding contact. The space between you felt thick, weighted with everything held back.