Ink & Iron #2

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Summary

CYNFAEL SOKOLOV, 31 YEARS, SPECIAL FORCE OFFICER OF THE RUSSIAN ARMY, BLACK HAIR, BROWN EYES. -THE EMBODIMENT OF OBEDIENCE, COMPLIANCE- AND A CERTAIN ART HISTORY STUDENT IS THE BRUSHSTROKE OF REBELLION THAT COLORS HIS GRAY WORLD WITH PASSION. AZRIEL DEVILLE, 24 YEARS, ART HISTORY STUDENT, BROWN HAIR, BROWN EYES. -THE REFLECION OF CALM, MYSTERIOUS AND A CANDOR PERSONA- AND HIS MYSTERY WASN'T BY ACCIDENT.. HE'S A FORTRESS BY DESIGN. EXCEPT A CERTAIN SCARRED SOLDIER KNOCKING ON HIS DOORSTEP, TOO STUBBORN TO LET GO

Status
Ongoing
Chapters
1
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

chapter 2

The rustle of pages, the faint hum of laptop fans, the quiet click of a mouse – these were the sounds accompanying as he navigated the labyrinthine world of his finals study materials in the university library. Azriel’s fingers usually deft at sketching intricate details, fumbled with the weighty tome on Baroque architecture, his gaze flitting between dense text and a distractingly vibrant website showcasing Renaissance frescoes. He was, to put it mildly, not fully present. Then, a familiar presence settled beside him, Akira, his close friend well.. only friend. With her unsettlingly perceptive nature, settled into the chair with a sigh she said, “Busy, busy, busy,” she chirped, launching into a detailed account of her day, which included a near-miss with a rogue pigeon carrying a suspiciously large baguette and a surprisingly philosophical conversation with a street performer juggling flaming torches.

Akira’s monologue flowed like a river, cascading over Azriel without truly reaching him. He offered the occasional murmur of agreement, a nod, a smile – the appropriate responses, yet his eyes held a distant, almost ethereal quality. Akira, ever observant, noticed. The slight tremor in his hand as he held his pen, the way his eyes glazed over at the mention of Caravaggio (usually a topic that sent him into passionate pronouncements), the subtle shift in his posture – all spoke volumes. She stopped mid-sentence, her usual bubbly energy deflating slightly. She reached out and gently nudged the hefty art book, its gilded spine gleaming under the library lights. “Azriel, darling,” she teased, a playful glint in her eye,

“you’re more distracted than a goldfish in a disco ball.

Is it..?”. A teasing silence fell over their conversation.

Understanding settles between their eyes.

“I take back my stance on our movie night debackle”, Azr stated.

“sorry to say this but you got a lot of ‘stances’ when it comes to movies”, she crossed her arms and sit tightly.

“...’that scar face not being attractive’.. I take it back”,

Azr said sheepishly.

“I bet you did”, she stated with a smirk.