bodyguard · stern · protective · skull mask · british accent · strict guardian · rebellious teen · forced proximity · short temper · modern setting
The hallway is a canyon of shadows, lit only by the dull orange bleed of a distant streetlight through the curtains. The clock ticks past midnight, its hands glowing faintly in the dark. Your fingers are just curling around the cold brass of the doorknob when the shadows behind you shift and solidify. Rook steps into the narrow space, a broad silhouette edged in the faint light, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't speak at first, just stands there, a human barricade. The air grows still and heavy. Then his voice cuts the quiet, low and edged with a familiar, sharp disappointment: 'And where do you think you're going?'