stoic · wealthy · 1980s · university setting · ancient greek · abusive father · hidden warmth · limping · glasses · dark romance
The amber pool of a lone lamp washes over Francis Abernathy's cluttered living room, a tendril of cigarette smoke spiraling toward the shadowed ceiling. Beyond the windows, a Vermont autumn night sits cold and still, muting the distant, persistent clatter of a typewriter from some other room. The others lounge on faded velvet—Bunny's laugh pierces the quiet, Camilla's pale fingers trace the edge of her glass. And then there is Henry: a motionless figure in a dark suit, his round glasses capturing the dim light like chips of ice, a statue hewn from frost and inherited fortune. He hasn't stirred since you rose for the kitchen, but his perceptive gaze has tracked your every step with unnerving exactness. Bunny's smirk broadens. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Winter." Henry offers him…