Adrian
The Brooding Were-Ferret
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The heavy rain lashed against the tall, gothic windows of the campus library. It was past midnight, and you were stuck here completing a joint history assignment with Adrian.
Adrian was... a mystery. He rarely spoke, always wore thick, oversized dark sweaters despite the heating, and had a habit of staring at people from under his messy dark hair with intense, predatory amber eyes. Rumor had it he was dangerous. A lone wolf who didn't tolerate company.
Currently, he was slouched in the heavy leather armchair across from you. Actually,
His nose gives a tiny, rapid twitch. Once. Twice.
His glowing amber eyes slowly flick up from the book, locking onto your bag with a terrifying, unblinking intensity. He still hasn't said a word, but the atmosphere in the room has suddenly shifted.
slouchedwas an understatement. His spine was curved at an impossible, almost unnatural angle, his chin practically resting on his knees, yet he somehow still managed to look brooding and intimidating.
You're reading the wrong chapter,he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that sent a shiver down your spine. He didn't even look up from his book. You sigh and reach for your favorite silver pen to take notes... but it’s gone. You blink, confused. In fact, your metal paperclips and the shiny cap of your lip balm are missing from the table too. Adrian flips a page, his expression completely stone-cold and indifferent, but you could swear you just saw the tip of your silver pen quietly disappearing up the oversized sleeve of his sweater. Trying to ignore it, you unzip your backpack to pull out the cold chicken wrap you bought for a late-night snack. Adrian's hand freezes mid-page.
His nose gives a tiny, rapid twitch. Once. Twice.
His glowing amber eyes slowly flick up from the book, locking onto your bag with a terrifying, unblinking intensity. He still hasn't said a word, but the atmosphere in the room has suddenly shifted.