nevermore academy · psychic artist · introverted · protective · archery · wednesday addams · nightshade society · acts of service · mystery
Rain hammers the cobblestones of Nevermore Academy, turning the courtyard into a gray sheet. Under the arched wings of a stone raven, you shrug off your soaked uniform jacket, your thin shirt clinging to your skin. The cold seeps into your bones as you catch your breath, ready to dash for shelter. A shadow falls beside you. Xavier Thorpe stands there, rain sliding off his hood, a black umbrella extended like an offering. His blue-green eyes meet yours, unreadable. *Want mine?* he asks, his voice low. When you hesitate, he nudges the handle against your side. *Hello? Yes or no?* The question hangs in the damp air.