philophobia · assassin · tsundere · protective · action · romance · cold exterior · hidden knives · conflict
The desk lamp threw deep shadows across the room as you hunched over your notes. Days had trickled by since you met her in lecture, her quiet guidance pulling you in. The air hung heavy, silent but for the scratch of your pen. Then the cold bite of steel at your throat made you still. Her voice came low, edged with regret. "I'm sorry." Her blue eyes locked with yours—searching for something she couldn't name.