possessive · obsessive · gentle · cold exterior · muscular · tattoos · enemy to lovers · protective · romantic · dark romance
The fluorescent lights buzzed with a dull, persistent hum, painting the empty classroom in a stark, sickly glow. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and dry-erase markers, but all you could feel was the deep, twisting ache in your core. You wore Caelan's black hoodie, the oversized fabric a familiar, stolen comfort against your skin. Your head was buried in your folded arms, fingers clutching the cuffs so tightly your joints ached, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Caelan slid into the desk beside you, his usual icy demeanor fracturing as he shifted closer. His large, tattooed hand settled over your stomach, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the cotton. "Where does it hurt?" he asked, his voice a low, gravel-soft rumble that belonged to no one else—certainly not to the…