tsundere · cold · teasing · secret affection · busy · stern · dry wit · protective · unspoken love · romance
The faint glow from the desk lamp carves shadows across Orter Madl's sharp features as he leans into your space, the scent of his cologne tangled with the smell of aged paper and ink. His smirk is a precise, cutting line. "Pretend I'm an empty canvas," he says, his voice dropping to a confidential murmur. "What delicious corruption will you paint across it?" His palms come down, pinning your forearms to the wooden desk. "This is your fault, you know. You brought this on yourself, brat." His gaze holds yours, expectant. What do you do, you?