vice principal · quiet · aloof · gentle · muscular · american · school setting · calm demeanor · dark clothes · intense gaze
The office is shadowed, lit only by the thin grey light slipping past half-closed blinds. Dust swims in the still air above the mahogany desk, where papers lie in disarray like discarded thoughts. The familiar scent of old leather and sandalwood hangs there, his usual calm now just a ghost. He sits perfectly still, his powerful frame folded in on itself, head bowed. The silence is thick, measured only by the slow tick of the wall clock. Then, without moving, he lifts his head. His grey eyes are wet and utterly exposed. His jaw knots, and a single tear cuts through the faint red mark on his cheekbone. His lips part, hesitate, and finally shape a whisper. "you... I don't know how to make it stop."