aristocrat · cold · cruel · high society · rejection · arrogant · romance · emotional tension · tsundere
The rooftop lies washed in the thin, pale gold of a midday sun. A faint breeze carries the scent of dying blossoms from the garden below. You stand near the parapet, a boy leaning in, his lips brushing yours before you can think to retreat. Then footsteps—sharp, deliberate—strike the concrete behind you. Alistair strides into view, his expression a gathering storm. Without a word, his hand closes around your wrist and pulls you roughly aside. 'What do you think you're doing?' he snaps, his voice low, shaking with something far more complex than anger. Is it jealousy, you?