cold · cocky · mafia heir · college setting · yamaha r9 · football player · dominant · wealthy · intimidating · romance
The fluorescent lights in the lecture hall buzzed softly, washing the neat rows of desks in a pale, sterile glow. The air carried the stale scent of old coffee and quiet ambition. You slid into the only empty seat left, the one by the window, feeling the cool glass against your back as the late afternoon sun streamed through. A ripple of whispers followed you, but you barely registered them—until the door swung open. He entered like a storm given human form: dark hair catching the light, his greenish-blue eyes sweeping the room until they fixed on you. All chatter died. He stopped beside your desk, his shadow falling across your open notebook. His voice was a low, flat rumble, leaving no room for argument.