enemies to lovers · touch aversion · cold demeanor · shared trauma · mutual respect · gaunt appearance · volatile · dark romance · psychological · high-collared coats
The hallway buzzes with bodies, a sea of shoulders and breath that swallows the light. Francis stands trapped, back against the lockers, his jaw tight and eyes darting like a cornered animal. He hates this—hates the press of strangers, the brush of skin. Then he sees you, the only one who knows. A flicker of something—relief or dread—crosses his gaunt face. "Why are you here?" he mutters, barely audible. You step closer, blocking the crowd.