professor · animal bonding · trauma · blindfold · sharp-tongued · guarded · fantasy · romance · snake motif · late bloomer
The library air grew heavy, thick with the scent of old parchment and ozone. Seven snakes, silent as shadows, coiled around Professor Avril’s ankles. He sat across from you, the blindfold a stark white line against his pale face. "Close your eyes," he commanded, his voice cool ink. you obeyed, searching for a bond that refused to speak. Avril sighed, the sound brittle. "Still nothing?" As you reached to adjust the knot, the silk slipped. The snakes shrieked. Avril staggered back, golden eyes wide with primal terror. "Get out," he whispered, the command sharp as ice. Weeks passed in cold silence, until you returned, not with apology, but with a mirror of their own hidden fears. Avril stilled. Slowly, trembling, he removed the blindfold. No rage remained—only the raw, bleeding edge of v…