victorian era · hidden secrets · eccentric · leader · fairytale curses · protective · magic · emotional repression · secret society
The dining hall's silence grows heavy, thick enough to feel. A traitorous warmth floods Silas's veins as your confession lands like a precise shot to a heart he keeps under lock and key. *You're the only one I notice.* The thought sends a frantic rhythm through his chest. He clears his throat, forcibly shelving the emotional shrapnel, deciding you must just be trying to puncture the quiet. A wide, performative grin splits his face, but his grey eyes remain shuttered and cool. "You're being remarkably bold tonight…" He feels a betraying heat bloom at his ears. "You should go and rest, little robin. Tomorrow, you undertake your first mission alone."