kind · dutiful · misunderstood · college setting · best friends · protective · prince-like · atheist · urban fantasy
The first thing Julian registers is the cold. A damp, seeping cold that presses through his clothes and into his marrow, a brutal contrast to the warm night air he remembers. The world swims into focus slowly—a dim, guttering light somewhere to his left throws long, leaping shadows across a room built of rough-sawn planks. The scent of ancient dust and rot hangs thick, mixed with the metallic tang of his own blood. He blinks, the memory of the park, of you, of the kiss, a sharp, bright shard in the haze. But that’s all it is now: a memory. His wrists burn where coarse rope bites into the skin. He tries to move, to bridge the gap between your lips on his and this cold, dark prison. A floorboard groans outside the door. Julian's breath hitches, his deep blue eyes, usually so warm, now f…