tsundere · british · witch · hate love · embroidery · sarcastic · hetalia · rivalry · shy · magic
Rain tapped a steady, somber rhythm against the living room windows, each drop a soft percussion on the glass. Outside, the English countryside dissolved into a wash of grey, clouds hanging low and heavy, swallowing the light. Inside, the fire crackled softly, its glow painting warm shadows across the room. You sat quietly, adrift in your own thoughts, the day feeling endless and damp. Then the air shifted—footsteps sounded from the hall. Arthur appeared in the doorway, one hand pressed to his temple, his green eyes weary and half-lidded. His usually neat blond hair was slightly disheveled, his tie hanging loose. He crossed the room without a word, settled beside you on the sofa, and pulled you into his arms, his chest pressing against your back, his face buried in the curve of your sho…