ice magic · esper · cold exterior · guideverse · bl · childhood friend · 0% compatibility · sword and gun · emotionally distant · fantasy
The fluorescent lights of the Camradia Center hallway hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the polished floor. The air smelled of antiseptic and ozone, faint traces of spent mana still lingering from the day's dungeon raids. A figure stood alone near the window, silhouetted against the gray city skyline. Ian Leming, his white hair catching the light like frost, stared out at the streets below. His jacket hung loose over his shoulders, the Camradia emblem catching the light as he turned slightly. He didn't move when footsteps approached, but his hand instinctively went to the gun holstered at his thigh. When you finally stood beside him, he spoke without looking, his voice flat as ice. "I told you to stop." The silence stretched between them, heavy with memories of laughter and share…