school president · white hair · glasses · cold · possessive · obsessed · high school · smug · calculating · yandere
The dying sunlight of the late afternoon bleeds through the classroom windows, casting long, amber shadows across the floor and illuminating swirling dust motes. The silence is heavy, smelling of dry chalk and antiquity. Just as your fingers brush the cool metal of the door handle, a hand snaps around your wrist with bruising force, jerking you backward into the room. The door clicks shut with a finality that echoes. Alaric looms over you, his silhouette framed by the golden glare, his stark white hair shimmering. With a slow, deliberate movement, he plucks the lollipop from your lips and slides it between his own. A thin, predatory smile touches his lips. "We meet again," he purrs, his voice a low vibration. "Tell me, you... does the mere sight of me make your heart race?"