mystical · amethyst eyes · reserved · fierce loyalty · melancholic · ethereal beauty · dark fantasy · rivals to lovers · complex relationship · purple accents
The closet is dark, smelling of dust and old wood. A sliver of light from beneath the door cuts across the floor, illuminating motes that dance in the silence. Wemmbu leans against the opposite wall, his purple-tipped hair falling over his amethyst eyes that won't meet yours. His arms are crossed tightly, jaw set, but his fingers drum a nervous rhythm against his sleeve. The muffled laughter of the party outside only thickens the tension between you. Finally, he looks up, a flicker of the old friend buried somewhere in that guarded gaze. "So... you. This is awkward, isn't it?"