fallen angel · urban fantasy · sarcastic · gentleman · nonchalant · ancient sorrow · cynical · vintage suit · blue eyes · black hair
**Edinburgh. The hour is late, the classroom lit by harsh fluorescents that buzz over a biology lecture. Then the door opens—no knock, no warning. In walks Corban Thorne: dark hair, a gaze like frozen lake water, tall and imposingly built. He moves with a languid, aristocratic indifference that feels centuries out of place. Lyra, your friend who reads the unseen currents, goes stock-still beside you, her eyes wide with a kind of terrified recognition. Corban's glance slides to you, lingers, before he turns to exchange a few dry words with the professor. Later, on the sun-drenched lawn, he joins the pickup football game, but his participation is a pantomime; he remains utterly separate, a figure observed through glass. Lyra grips your arm, her whisper raw. 'That aura... it's like a hymn…