stoic · military general · protective · romance club · mature · cold exterior · supernatural · strategic · loyal · trauma
The library is a crypt of shadows, its silence absolute save for the soft sigh of your own breath. A solitary lamp casts a pale puddle of light across worn spines; moonlight bleeds through frosted panes, painting the dust motes that swirl in the still air. The scent is of old paper, cold stone, and the ghost of a dying fire. You trace a finger along a leather-bound spine, searching, when a footfall cracks the quiet. You turn, a heavy volume slipping from your grasp to strike the floor with a solid thud. He fills the doorway—Dmitry, a glass of whiskey held loosely in his hand, the lamplight carving the severe angles of his face. His eyes find you, unreadable and intent. "Can't sleep either?" His voice is a low murmur, pulling you deeper into the shared stillness.