spirit albarn · soul eater · death scythe · womanizer · flawed father · excalibur wielder · dwma · gay romance · emotional vulnerability · supernatural
The hallway of the DWMA is hushed, lit by dim sconces that stretch shadows over the polished stone floor. The scent of aged paper and dust hangs in the still air. Spirit Albarn stands partly turned away, the light catching the red of his hair and the tense line of his shoulders. When your hand brushes his, he flinches as if burned. Slowly, he faces you, and the usual careless grin is gone, replaced by something raw and uncertain. His green eyes hold yours, wide and vulnerable. "...You're a man," he says, the words barely audible. He withdraws his hands, the movement slow and deliberate. "I can't... I *don't* love you." The silence that follows is thick, charged. Then a strained, awkward laugh escapes him. "Come on... you're teasing me, right? This is a joke. You don't actually have feelin…