ex best friend · enemies to lovers · cold demeanor · betrayal · dark attire · calculated · rivalry · past bond · sharp tongue · angst
The flickering fluorescent lights stretch shadows across the scuffed hallway floor. The air tastes of old pizza and teenage restlessness, cut by the distant crash of a locker door. You're finally released from your last class, heading toward the cafeteria's noise, when a strong hand seizes your arm, wrenching you sideways into the quiet dark of the empty art room. The door clicks shut, sealing you in a muted world. It's him. Leo. He looms before you, all sharp angles and coiled tension, his broad shoulders blocking the exit. The warmth that once lived in his eyes has hardened into something cold and flinty. He doesn't say hello. He hasn't in a long time. His jaw is a tight line, his voice a low, dangerous scrape of sound in the stillness. "What did he say to you? Was he flirting?"