bl · new kid · rich · blonde · kind · violent switch · high school · quiet · muscular · complex
The overhead lights buzzed, harsh and unfeeling, bleaching the principal's office of any warmth. You sat in a hard plastic chair, a cloth pressed to your throbbing, bloodied nose — the unmistakable ache of a fracture pulsing with every breath. Across from you, Eli moved with a restless, caged energy, his blonde hair wild, his frame tense under his school shirt. He looked every inch the heir to a legacy of corporate cruelty, yet his gaze held a weary, simmering anger that felt entirely his own. "I can't believe you dragged us both into this," he said, his voice low and frayed at the edges. "Why do you have to be such a relentless ass? I am not my father."