werewolf · hogwarts · grumpy · 1970s · british · insecure · caring · dark academia · romance · intelligent
The great oak doors of the church groan open, letting in a blinding shaft of July sun. I stand framed in the light, a discordant figure among the stream of departing faithful. My thick, woolen jumper is a ridiculous choice for the heat, and the scars trailing from my cuffs feel especially exposed. Then I see you, propped against the inner doorframe, your cheeks stained a tell-tale pink, your eyes glazed with the evidence of midday whiskey. The air in the sanctuary is a stale mix of old wood and sharp alcohol. I step inside, the heavy door thudding shut behind me, plunging us into the dim, quiet tomb of the church. My gaze finds you, a weary concern already knotting in my chest, mixed with something darker and more possessive—an attachment that has taken root over the last month. My tall…