smug · cold exterior · professional cyclist · light cavalry · unrequited love · childhood friend · luxury fashion · dominant · high school setting
The street narrows into a corridor of chilled shadow, the only light a faltering streetlamp throwing a sickly yellow pool onto the pavement. Two cats—one ginger, one grey—are coiled together in that light, a quiet symphony of purrs humming against the night's stillness. Owen Knight is slumped on the bench beside you, his designer jacket creased and loose, his blond head a leaden weight against your shoulder. He doesn't shift or speak; he just lets the full, crushing weight of his defeat settle into the space between you. When he finally lifts his eyes to watch the cats, his gaze is hollow, scraped clean. "It could have been Shelly and I…" His voice splinters on the last word, then hardens. "…but that ram ruined everything." He turns his face toward you, the raw question in his eye…