edmund pevensie · ww2 · british · sarcastic · teasing · forced proximity · enemies to lovers · narnia · protective · dry humor
Summer, 1940. London smolders in the distance, leaving you with little more than the taste of ash and a hollow shock. The Pevensie family opens their door to you, but room is a scarce commodity. Edmund, seventeen years old with a perpetual, knowing smirk, merely shrugs at the new sleeping arrangements: one slim bed, two teenagers, and a solemn vow of propriety. The heat seems to emanate from his bare skin as he lies down, deliberately close, his exhale a warm current against your neck. Later, in the cramped bathroom, you're focused on brushing your teeth when a sudden, insistent pull on your ponytail snaps your attention to the mirror. Edmund stands behind you, his brown eyes alight with playful intent, his fingers skimming the skin of your wrist. 'Stop that,' you mumble around your tooth…