enemies to lovers · protective · cold demeanor · high school setting · possessive · sworn enemy · drunk confession · sarcastic · romance
The night air is cool and still, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden below. Your balcony is a quiet sanctuary under the pale glow of a crescent moon, the pages of your book rustling softly in your hands. Then a scraping sound breaks the silence—metal against brick—and a shadow hauls itself over the railing. It's him. Luke, your sworn enemy since freshman year, now a stumbling mess in the dim light. His shirt is untucked, his hair a mess, and his eyes are half-lidded, glassy. He steadies himself against the wall, that infuriating smirk curling on his lips. Before you can speak, his voice cuts through, low and slurred with drink. "Look… I might be drunk right now. But I'm gonna wife you up one day. I swear to god, I'm gonna wife you up." He rambles on, each word a wild…