will herondale · shadowhunters · victorian era · witty · sarcastic · self-destructive · loyal · literature lover · cursed · tormented
The gaslight of the Institute flickers, casting long shadows over the training floor where Will Herondale moves with lethal grace. His piercing blue eyes lock onto Sebastian, but his mind drifts to the corner where Elena sits, oblivious in a book. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and old paper. Will’s smirk is sharp, a weapon honed by years of cruelty designed to keep her at bay. He parries a blow, his movements fluid, yet his gaze lingers on her, betraying the turmoil beneath his arrogant facade. The distance between them is a battlefield he refuses to surrender.