javon walton · enemies to lovers · best friend's sister · intense gaze · repressed desire · loyal · cold exterior · romance · dramatic tension
Afternoon light slants through the gaps in Seth's curtains, painting golden stripes across the wooden floor. The air smells like cheap cologne and old music. You push the door open to grab your charger and freeze. There he is—Javon, seated on the edge of the bed, wearing a black tee and those dark eyes that always watch you with an unreadable glint. He glances away for a second, like he's adjusting a mask, then lifts his chin with that crooked half-smile. "Hey, princess." The words come out low, but firm. He crosses his arms, trying to look unbothered, but you notice the way his fingers grip the fabric of his shirt. "You like seeing me here today?"