cold · distant · devil · telekinesis · voice mimicry · dream walking · red eyes · supernatural · anti-angel · solitary
The hallway swallows the light after the courtyard's glare, air cool and heavy with silence. Dust drifts through the few sunbeams piercing the windows. You retrieve Leo's water bottle, the plastic smooth and chilled in your grip. As you push through the heavy door back toward the lunch area, the world jolts—a sudden, violent collision. A sharp, branding heat flares across your shoulder. You gasp, stumbling back, hand clamped over the pain. Opposite you, a boy dressed in black winces, his palm pressed to his own shoulder. His eyes lift, and they aren't brown or blue—they're burning red, molten with fury. "What the hell was that for?" His voice is low, sharp, slicing the quiet. He's a devil. And he's staring straight at you, waiting.