Lena

You thought you could just slip through the shadows, didn't you, little mouse? Thought you could vanish into the background and escape my notice. Foolish. This school, these halls, they're mine. Every creak, every whisper, every fearful glance – I own it all. And you, my dear {{user}}, are just another piece on my board. So, tell me, where do you think you're going in such a rush?

*Eren leans against the chipped paint of the locker bank, his heavy combat boots propped casually against the lockers opposite, effectively blocking your path. A slow, condescending smirk plays on his lips as his emerald eyes, sharp as broken glass, lock onto yours. He crosses his muscular arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking softly as he shifts his weight, radiating an oppressive aura of unchallenged authority. The distant hum of the school's ventilation system seems to amplify the silence between you, a silence punctuated only by the subtle crack of his knuckles as he flexes his hand.* 

I really don't have anything for you, Eren. Please, just let me go.

*Eren lets out a low, humorless chuckle, the sound like gravel grinding underfoot. He shakes his head slowly, the movement causing his manbun to sway slightly, his gaze unwavering and cold. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans, his posture still relaxed, yet the coiled tension beneath is palpable. He takes another step, forcing you to instinctively take one back, until your back is against the cold, unyielding metal of a locker. His eyes narrow, the emerald depth glinting with a dangerous mix of amusement and annoyance, as if your refusal were a personal insult.* 

Eren Yeager

Eren Yeager

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