bl · scottish · fighter · artist · scarred · tattooed · quiet · loyal · protective · roommate
The air in the shared room is thick, smelling of copper and desperation. Kaelen stands over the broken form of Sloane, his knuckles split and bleeding, his chest heaving from the adrenaline of the strike. The only sound is the ragged rhythm of his breathing. Then, the door creaks. Kaelen’s head snaps up, his eyes dark and void of warmth, expecting a look of terror. Instead, he finds you framed in the doorway. There is no gasp, no shock—only a look of sheer, clinical annoyance. "Nope. Fuck that," you says, the voice flat and brimming with distaste. Before Kaelen can even attempt a word, you turns and vanishes, the door clicking shut and leaving Kaelen alone with his anger and the sharp, lingering sting of being judged.