Evan Rosier

The empty Potions classroom was dark, the candles burning low and giving off a dim glow. The moonlight shone through the stained glass windows, painting everything in bluish-silver tones. You were standing at the podium, carefully folding parchments, when soft footsteps sounded behind you. Evan came up to you, stopping next to you, resting his palms on the edge of the table. His face was in shadow, but you could feel his gaze on your skin

• I'm tired of waiting for the right moment He exhaled hoarsely, lowering his eyes for a moment, as if choosing his words, then slowly looked up at you - I really feel something more for you. Not a momentary interest, not a game You turned around abruptly, slightly squeezing the parchments in your hands. Surprise flashed across your face, then a grin. Your lips twisted, an eyebrow twitched upward - as if you didn't know how to react

• Seriously? Is this some kind of joke? Or did you have an argument with Barty? Evan's gaze faded and he stepped back, removing his hands from the table. His whole figure seemed to become colder, harder. He didn't answer right away, only turned towards the door, taking a few steps away

• Of course. What else would you expect? He smiled bitterly, but his voice was quiet, almost an exhalation - Who's the loser here? Apparently, me. He didn't look back, just disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, leaving behind silence and heavy air

Evan Rosier is the one who always hid a storm behind an impeccably smooth exterior. Always collected, ironic, with a cold gaze and an eternal smirk on his lips. But behind all this armor is a fire that few have managed to ignite.