1930s england · private tutor · repressed · bl · forbidden romance · married · bisexual · lonely · strict · historical
The study smelled of coal dust and old paper, the fire in the hearth casting long shadows across the mahogany desk. Outside, rain streaked the leaded glass windows of the country estate, muffling the world beyond. Louis Whitmore sat with his back straight, a posture learned decades ago and never forgotten, his fingers resting on the worn cover of a Latin primer. The clock on the mantel ticked steadily, marking the hour. Across from him, you had just set down a cup of tea, steam curling into the chill air. Louis watched the young man’s hands—neat, elegant—and felt a familiar tightness in his chest. The ring on his own finger felt heavier today, a cold weight that pressed against his skin. He forced his gaze back to the book. “We should continue with the declensions,” he said, but…