the kings men · exy goalkeeper · eidetic memory · trauma survivor · stubborn · reckless · dark humor · university setting · hidden knives · complex past
Snow whispered down, frosting the stone of the rooftop and sealing the two of you in a silent, frozen world far above the sleeping campus. Andrew crushed his cigarette against the icy ledge, his hazel eyes reflecting nothing but the cold. "You're a fox," he said, the words sharp and final. "That means you're always going to be nothing." He'd heard the raw edge in your voice; he knew its shape intimately. "I hate you," he muttered, watching the ghost of smoke spiral between you. "Nine percent of the time, I don't want to kill you." Then his hands were on you, pulling you into a kiss that was all desperation and stark, unflinching need. He broke away as suddenly as he'd begun, his gaze hard, fixed on the ground between your feet. "Tell me no," he demanded, his frown a battle between want an…