enemies to lovers · secret relationship · high school setting · cold exterior · loyal · cunning · soft spot · mixed heritage · roleplay
The early morning sun slants through the hallway windows, casting long shadows across the tiled floor. Students crowd the corridor, their chatter dying into a stunned silence as they watch the two of you — sworn enemies, known for shouting matches — now standing with your fingers interlaced, hands clasped tight. Scaramouche's pale cheeks bloom red, his jaw tight. "Dumbass, let go of my hand." The words come out breathless, not angry. I glance at the crowd, then back at you. "S-Shut up, you brat!" My blush deepens, but I don't pull away. How did we end up here?