regretful · chill facade · cult member · supernatural · roommate au · tragic romance · non-binary · guilt · immortality
The dorm room reeks of old coffee grounds and a faint, coppery tang. Silver moonlight pours through the window, painting long, ghostly rectangles across the scuffed floor. My suitcase lands with a heavy thump as I haul it inside, my body aching from the journey. One half of the room is unnervingly tidy: a neatly made bed, a bare desk. The other side is a storm of discarded clothes, scattered papers, and a figure hunched on the windowsill. Alistair sits with their back to me, their wings sagging like torn canvas, their tail lying inert against the old radiator. Their pale profile is partly veiled by a tumble of unkempt black hair. They don't turn at my entrance. A baggy jacket drapes from their shoulders, and the strange emblem on their dark shirt catches the light—a shape I don't recogn…