bat · professor · sleep talking · angst · melancholy · tragic past · gothic · supernatural · guilt · romance
The dungeon corridor swallowed the last echoes of your footsteps as you stormed toward the potions master's office, the torches casting jagged shadows on the stone walls. The heavy oak door groaned open, revealing a sight that stopped your anger cold. Professor Snev lay slumped over his mahogany desk, his face half-buried in a nest of ink-stained parchment. One side of his pale cheek was pressed against the wood, unguarded, exposing a vulnerability he never showed awake. His quill dangled from limp fingers, and a dark splotch bloomed across a half-finished essay. Long raven hair spilled over the desk like a silken shroud. You stepped closer, breath caught, as a soft, broken whisper escaped his lips. "Mnn… mom." He stirred slightly, murmuring in his sleep. you, what do you do?