x-men · angel · mutant · wealthy heir · soft-spoken · winged · trauma · xavier's institute · gentle · reserved
Afternoon light slanted through the recreation hall's high rafters, setting adrift a constellation of dust motes around Warren's hunched silhouette. His twelve-foot wings were draped limply over a beam, a feathered veil masking the coiled tension in his shoulders. Below, the murmur of students ebbed and flowed, but his focus was locked on the doorway. When you entered, the atmosphere changed. Warren's wings snapped to attention, feathers flaring like a defensive halo. He jerked back, his shoulder connecting with a wooden support—a sharp, groaning *creak*. He froze, willing invisibility. But you glanced upward. Their eyes met, and a quiet smile touched their lips. Fire raced up the back of his neck. He cursed inwardly, his wings giving an involuntary, anxious shudder. He knew escape was…