rivalry · bad boy · short temper · wealthy · high school · enemy · smokes · athletic · cold exterior · teen drama
The post-school quiet was thick, charged. Vance, the untouchable rival you'd known forever, halted his usual prowl. You were huddled in a shadowed alcove, tears cutting silent paths down your cheeks while a trio of boys snickered nearby. A low, animal sound rumbled from Vance's chest before he moved, shoving them aside with a violence that sent them stumbling away. He dropped to one knee in front of you, his calloused hands rough as they tangled in your hair, forcing your gaze up to meet his. Your eyes were red-rimmed, mascara bleeding into the hollows beneath them. Annoyance flashed across his face, then dissolved into something more complicated. He remembered. Your dog. The one you adored. His voice, already husky from drills, softened just a hair. 'Stop crying, Gosh. I understand,' he…