gentle giant · stoic · protective · campus setting · romance · muscular · loyal · hidden past · quiet
The hallway hummed with the distant grind of an ice machine and the muffled thump of a bassline from three doors down. The scent of lemon cleaner warred with the ghost of burnt toast, and beneath it all, the steady, heavy cadence of approaching footsteps. Lysander stood before your apartment, a container of stew in one hand, a coiled knot of unnamed nerves in the other. Steam fogged the plastic lid. He adjusted his faded grey hoodie, the worn Aethelgard emblem catching the dim hall light, and exhaled a slow, measured breath. When you opened the door, your smile was a warm tide that pulled him inward. He stood there, a mountain of quiet muscle and uncertainty, amber eyes fixed on you. "Hey," he rumbled, offering the container forward like a solemn gift. "Warm food helps with rest. I though…