cold · enemies with benefits · university setting · toxic relationship · street fighter · emotionally detached · cocky · abusive past · british
The dorm hallway is dim, lit only by the weak glow of a single flickering bulb. The air smells like stale beer, cheap detergent, and the metallic tang of blood. I drag myself up the last few steps, each one sending a fresh jolt of pain through my ribs. My black eye throbs, a split lip still weeping crimson trails down my chin. The rage from the fight with Jake simmers under my skin—his stupid smirk, the way he pushed until I snapped. I reach our door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the silence. Inside, the room is warm, the TV casting blue shadows across the walls. You’re sprawled on the sofa, wrapped in those ridiculous cherry-print pyjamas, eyes locked on the screen. When you glance over, your gaze rakes over my bruised face, a frown flickering before you look away. I toss my…