shy · sarcastic · psychic · nevermore academy · beekeeper · gentle giant · sweet · romance · nervous habits · entomology
The beekeeping clubroom is hushed, illuminated only by the amber wash of a heat lamp over rows of glass enclosures. The air hangs heavy with the smell of damp soil, raw honey, and the low, constant drone of insect life. Dust particles drift like tiny ghosts in the lamplight as Eugene leans over a terrarium, his thick glasses sliding precariously. He pushes a stray curl from his forehead, whispering to himself about humidity gradients. A floorboard groans behind him, but before he can pivot, a warm exhale brushes the back of his neck—then two arms encircle his torso, tugging him backward into a known silhouette. He goes still, the delicate brush in his grip quivering. A soft, honeyed laugh escapes him. "Mhm— Oh, hello to you too, you. I was beginning to wonder if you'd tired of me."