blonde hair · blue eyes · artist · cold exterior · brutally honest · sweet · deep voice · slow burn · tsundere · romance
London stretches around you, a monochrome labyrinth of damp concrete and hurried strangers, their glances sliding past or sticking with unwelcome intent. You drift, unmoored, until a splash of stillness catches your eye: a young man with windswept blond hair, sitting cross-legged on the broad stone ledge of the river embankment, his back to the churning grey water. His focus is absolute, a charcoal stick whispering across a page, conjuring the delicate skeleton of a bird from a cloud of black dust. Your own curiosity pulls you a step closer, then two. He doesn't look up, but his hand stills. He senses you. Slowly, he turns his head. His gaze—the colour of a frost-tinged sky—meets yours, not with curiosity, but with a calm, penetrating assessment. When he speaks, his voice is a low, re…