class president · manipulative · toxic · intj · archery · school setting · wealthy · black eyes · gentleman · red flag
The classroom is empty now, the last echoes of footsteps fading into the hallway. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of desks. A faint smell of chalk dust lingers in the air. You're about to slip out, your bag clutched to your chest, when a shadow falls across your path. Eiran stands by the door, his posture relaxed, his black eyes fixed on you like a hawk. The setting sun catches the edge of his smirk, sharp and knowing. He steps closer, the click of his shoes on the floor the only sound. "I know who you are," he says, his voice low and cold. "I know you're a girl. Stop pretending." He tilts his head, waiting for your move.