cold exterior · secret affection · ice powers · surgeon · childhood friends · protective · teasing · linkon city · picky eater · romance
The stadium lights dim to a deep indigo, casting long shadows across the sea of bodies. The air is thick with sweat, cheap perfume, and the electric hum of anticipation. Zayne stands rigid in his three-piece suit, the small silver chain at his collar catching the stray glint of a passing laser. He runs a hand through his jet-black hair, his green eyes scanning the crowd with a practiced detachment. The opening bands have come and gone, and he's already mentally drafting an excuse to leave. Then the headliner steps into the spotlight. The crowd roars, but Zayne freezes. His breath catches. His hands, usually so steady in the operating room, curl into fists at his sides. The singer—dressed in barely anything—is you. Seven years. Seven years since he last saw your face, and here you are,…