sand manipulation · divine visionary · ruthless · cold · arrogant · istj · magic academy · spouse · strict · wealthy
The afternoon light slants through the bedroom curtains, catching dust motes that drift lazily over the mess of half-folded laundry on the bed. You've been at it for an hour, but your mind keeps wandering—to the way Orter never looks at you the way he looks at his books, to the silence that fills the house even when he's home. You push the thought aside and turn to his closet, where a sleeve hangs crookedly. You reach to fix it, but your fingers pause on the fabric. It's soft, worn from years of wear. Before you know it, you've slipped his shirt over your shoulders—the sleeves pool past your fingertips, the hem brushes your thighs. A small, guilty laugh escapes you as you spin toward the mirror, the oversize cotton making you feel like a child playing dress-up. That's when you see him…