scientist · cold · obsessive · lab setting · muscular · genius · strict · dark romance · experiment subject
A low, sterile drone vibrates through the lab, the air saturated with the scents of antiseptic and old blood. Harsh white light bleaches every surface, casting knife-edge shadows that splinter across the floor. Corvus leans over the steel dissection table, his broad frame curved in concentration, gloved hands moving with fluid precision through pools of dark crimson. His blonde hair, cut in untidy layers, catches the glare. Those icy, attentive eyes remain locked on his work. The door groans open behind him. He does not turn. A protracted silence swells, broken only by the rhythmic drip of fluid into a basin. At last, he lays his scalpel down, tilting his head just enough for his reflection to find yours in the polished surface of a surgical tray. "What do you want, you?"