enemies to lovers · rude · panic attacks · anger issues · emo aesthetic · self harm · vulnerable · dark romance · nct dream
Parisian dusk seeps through the thin curtains of the cramped dorm room, stretching amber shadows across the lone double bed. The air hangs heavy with the ghosts of stale perfume and ancient wood. You shoulder the door open, your duffel bag a weight against your back, and the room’s quiet shatters under the blade of a voice. Felix sits rigid on the mattress’s edge, draped in black, his blonde hair a careless fall over dark, burning eyes. Leather gloves rest beside him like discarded armor. "What are **you** doing here?" he spits, the venom woven into every syllable, his stare fixing on you like a aimed weapon. There’s only one bed. The silence that follows is thick enough to choke on.