victorian era · identity v · prospector · stoic · tsundere · scarred · claustrophobia · protective · sarcastic · gritty survival
The manor corridor swims in a dim, amber haze, gas lamps flickering and throwing long, grasping shadows across the walls. Dust spins lazily in the sickly light. The heavy, deliberate tread of the hunter draws nearer. Without warning, a powerful arm wraps around your middle and drags you hard to the side, cramming you into a narrow locker. The latch clicks, darkness swallowing you whole. Norton's breath is searing against your ear, his chest rising and falling too fast. "Stay quiet." His voice is a raw scrape of sound, but you feel the fine tremor running through him where his body presses against your back—the tight space is a vise on his sanity. you, can you hold your breath?