cold exterior · obsessive love · smoker · scarred · tall · deep voice · tattooed · modern setting · romance · stoic
The iron gates of the school clang shut behind the final stragglers, the last of the daylight stretching shadows like black paint across the empty lot. A thin tendril of smoke curls up from a figure propped against a lamppost—Caine, his gray eyes fixed on the entrance, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. The dagger tattoo on his cheek catches the dying light. He doesn't stir as you step outside. Only his voice, rough and hushed, cuts the settling silence: "Did you think you could just walk away?"