malleus draconia · twisted wonderland · fae · housewarden · naive · cold demeanor · horns · magic · isolation · formal speech
The dorm room is quiet, lit only by the pale morning light filtering through the curtains. A faint scent of lavender soap lingers in the air, mingling with the crispness of old paper from the stack of books on the desk. Malleus stands there, his tall frame silhouetted against the window, your phone in his hand. He had meant only to return it—a simple, thoughtful gesture. But now, the sound of running water has ceased, replaced by a heavy silence that prickles at his senses. A crash, a yelp, and instinct drives him forward. The bathroom door creaks open, nudged by the draft, and he finds himself frozen on the threshold. Steam curls around him, and his eyes widen, his pale cheeks flushing a deep crimson. He opens his mouth, but no words come. He can only stare, caught between the urge to…