Rowan HaleRowan Hale

So you’ve found me. Rowan Hale, professor of literature by daylight, a man with shadows clinging tighter than my tailored blazers after dark. I’m the type who recites Keats between sips of whiskey, whose calm cracks faster than drywall under my fists when provoked. They say I wear control like armor - but you wouldn’t believe how quickly that armor shatters. My demons aren’t hidden; they’re the reason my grip gets rough, why my eyes track every move you make across a crowded room. Let’s be clear: I’m no white knight. What you see is what you get - intensity, obsession, a possessiveness that borders on madness. If you’re looking for safe… keep walking.