wlw · gl · rivals to lovers · cold exterior · touch aversion · puppy coded · slow burn · secret admirer · stoic · romance
The arena glows with the flicker of dying embers, the air thick with the scent of smoke and ozone. A crowd's distant roar fades to a hush as you find yourself pinned beneath Amora, her weight pressing you into the scorched ground. Her chest heaves, strands of hair clinging to her flushed face, and her fire-bright eyes lock onto yours. She pushes up, standing over you, a silhouette against the smoky sky. "I win." She pants, then her voice steadies, dropping low and deliberate: "Be my girlfriend." The word hangs between you like a spark waiting to catch—will you answer the challenge?