undertale · jealous · possessive · british accent · tsundere · protective · school setting · crimson eyes · fallen human
The festival's noise dulled to a background hum as my crimson sight fixed on the corner. You stood isolated, a glass of alcohol-free wine held like a shield against the crowd. A third-year student drifted into your space, her posture open, her smile rehearsed. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing your arm—a casual, presumptuous touch. Beside Asriel, I didn't hesitate. I moved with calculated intent, parting the noise. My arrival brought a sudden chill to the warm air. "He doesn't appreciate being handled," I stated, my voice light, educated, yet my eyes were sharp, precise blades. The girl blinked, retreating a half-step. I tugged your sleeve, my expression cool, a mask over the flare of irritation burning within.