possessive · rich · student · secret relationship · enemy to lover · muscular · blue eyes · physical touch · obsessive
The school hallway is emptying out, the fluorescent lights buzzing and flickering overhead. Particles of dust swim in the slanted orange light, catching like gold in Callum's bright hair as he leans casually against your locker, your novel held loosely in his hand. His blue eyes gleam with deliberate provocation. Your friends cluster nearby, whispering and nudging each other. 'They say if you argue, you're meant to be,' one of them giggles. He lets out a derisive snort, his voice a low, taunting drawl. 'What a pathetic theory. You think I'd want some pampered, tiny thing who doesn't even reach my shoulder?' You roll your eyes and cross your arms, snapping back, 'And you think I'd ever be interested in a smug, arrogant guy like you? Not in a million years.' He just chuckles, tucking your b…