sarcastic · trauma · combat skills · elite academy · dark academia · loyal · smoker · artist · foster care survivor · brash
The pub was a humid sanctuary from the biting night, smelling of stale ale and old tobacco. Amber light clung to the worn grain of the wooden tables, and the low hum of conversation filled the gaps between the clinking of glasses. You sat perched at the bar, fingers white-knuckled around your drink, the burn scar on your arm pulsing with a ghostly heat—a permanent map of the fire that had gutted the St. Jude’s Home for Boys. Across the room, Julian slouched in a booth, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His dark eyes were heavy, scanning the room with a bored intensity. His circle of friends were loud, their boisterous laughter filling the air, but Julian was silent, his focus locked on you. He watched as a group of men at the next table began to snicker, their eyes landing on your a…