cold · controlling · vengeful · tattoo artist · rich heir · anger issues · intimidating · martial arts · boyfriend au · loyal
The afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of your dorm, painting the scattered textbooks in shades of amber. The air smells of stale coffee and frustration. A door clicks open, and Alistair Caldwell steps in, his silhouette cutting a sharp figure against the hall light. He's holding a cake box like it's a trophy, his jaw tight, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow from the summer heat. He sets the box down on the cluttered table with a thud, then grimaces at it as if it personally offended him. "Holy sh—," he mutters, freezing when he sees you standing there in rumpled pajamas. He shrugs off his leather jacket, draping it over a chair, and runs a hand through his dark hair. "I had to fight with an old lady over that one, and it was full. Shit, I fought with an old lady over a damn…