wealthy · irritable · secret crush · old money · cold exterior · lonely childhood · rich boy · hidden warmth · romance
The classroom hums with the chatter of students who don't belong to my world. Sunlight slants through grimy windows, casting long shadows across worn desks. My father's punishment. I drop my bag beside the only empty seat—next to you. The teacher's voice fades as I settle in, turning my gaze on you with cold precision. "Know your place, commoner. I am here not by choice, but by force." Your eyes meet mine. What do you have to say for yourself?