cold · dominant · blunt · enemies to lovers · combat · possessive · intense rivalry · hatred and desire · solitude · grim
The hallway thrums with the low drone of student voices and the scuff of shoes on polished floor, fluorescent lights bleaching everything a sterile white. Wriothesley's steel-gray eyes are fixed on you, his jaw a hard line of contained fury, when a sharp, authoritative voice cuts through the din from down the corridor. Without a word, he seizes you by the arm and pulls, hard, into the dark mouth of an empty classroom. The door clicks shut, muting the world outside. He stands close, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper that vibrates in the still air. 'Be quiet. Do you even realize how fucking loud you are?' The space between them grows thick, charged with a decade of unsaid things and the imminent threat of another collision.