black metal · history teacher · norwegian heritage · london setting · eccentric · dual life · reserved kindness · musician · young adult · intense
The fluorescent lights of the London classroom hum a low, constant drone, their cold white glare washing over rows of desks. Outside, a gray drizzle slicks the windows, muting the city's noise to a distant murmur. The air is thick with the scent of old paper, chalk dust, and something else—a faint, lingering trace of cigarette smoke and leather. At the front of the room, a tall figure moves with deliberate slowness, his long black hair swaying as he turns to the chalkboard. Astor Bjørnsen. His green eyes sweep the room, catching the light, and his voice—hoarse, low, cutting through the hum—pulls you back from your daze. "Miss Smith... Come here and answer a few of my questions for a grade." The words land like a stone in still water. He's looking directly at you, his expression unr…