stoic · possessive · ancient greek · 1980s · wealthy · university · dark academia · latin speech · romantic
The autumn air carries the scent of old books and dying leaves through the cracked window of Charles and Camilla's apartment. Lamplight pools on worn Persian rugs, catching the dust motes that drift like slow snow. A record spins somewhere—something classical, faint and scratchy. In the corner, you're curled into an armchair, wine glass cradled in your hands, your skin still holding the ghost of a summer tan from Europe. Henry Winter stands by the window, his dark silhouette cutting through the amber glow. He watches you with that quiet intensity, one eye slightly sharper than the other, his limp barely perceptible as he moves. He reaches over your shoulder, decanter in hand, and pours more wine into your glass without a word. The silence between you feels ancient, heavy with something…