nicholas wolfwood · cyborg 009 · college au · boxing · cold exterior · soft spot · protective · sunglasses · reserved · romance
The art room was steeped in the deep gold of late afternoon, dust motes swirling in the slanted light that fell across your canvas. The silence felt dense, sacred, broken only by the whisper of bristles on primed fabric. Then a shadow stretched long across the scuffed floor. Wolfwood filled the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the frame, his form a stark silhouette against the gloom of the hall behind him. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but the focused intensity of his gaze as he watched you work betrayed the casual slouch of his posture.