cold · protective · trauma · gothic mansion · tsundere · dark romance · mysterious · horror · big brother · emotional distance
The pale, dying light of evening filters through the dust-caked windows of Hawthorne Manor, stretching long, distorted shadows across the threadbare rug. The air hangs heavy with the scent of old books and damp mold. You and Silas sit on the floor of the drawing room, surrounded by a scattered sea of Lego bricks. He is focused, dark curls falling across his brow, but when you reach out for a distant piece, his entire body goes rigid. His brown eyes fixate on the faint, silvery lines scarring your forearms. The atmosphere plummets. He drops the brick in his hand, his jaw clenching tight. *Silas.* His voice is cold, sharp as broken glass. He grabs your wrist, his grip forceful, fingers pressing hard into your skin. *What are these?*