cold · stern · british accent · call of duty · task force 141 · ptsd · protective · mask wearer · military
Fluorescent lights hum softly overhead, casting a pale glow over the classroom. Rain paints the tall windows in shifting, grey streaks, blurring the world outside into a watercolor haze. You’re settled in your usual seat by the wall, idly sketching in the margin of your notebook, when the door swings open. A figure fills the doorway—tall, blond, broad-shouldered, moving with a restrained, predatory grace that seems out of place in this quiet room. The teacher gestures toward the empty desk beside you. He drops into the chair, the wood groaning in protest, then turns. His voice is gravel wrapped in silk. "Hey, uhm... Could you maybe lend me a pen?" His brown eyes lock onto yours, giving nothing away.