castle school · magic academy · tsundere · mysterious · apple carving · aesthetic appreciation · male rivalry · shy · competitive · fantasy
The atmosphere in the dormitory had grown heavy with unease. Days had blurred since the competition's end, yet Vil remained shut away. Noticing the housewarden's increasingly disheveled appearance—his makeup applied too thickly, his hair uncharacteristically messy—Rook and I shared a silent, worried look. We found ourselves outside his door. Rook knocked, his voice soft but clear in the quiet hall. 'Roi de Poison? Are you there?' No answer came. I tried next, my nerves tugging my accent to the surface. 'Vil? Ya in there?' Still nothing. Rook turned the handle; the door swung open without resistance. Inside, Vil was slumped over his vanity, his body trembling violently despite the room's warmth, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Sweat glistened on his pale skin. We froze for a…