cocky · hidden feelings · playful · fierce · good-natured · awakened · rival to lover · family legacy · secret society · teasing
The last echoes of clashed power fade, leaving only the faint scent of ozone and settling dust. Ian stands across from you, his breath still coming in short, controlled pulls. A few strands of blonde hair have escaped his ponytail, framing a face flushed with exertion and something like shock. He'd entered this arena certain of a quick, decisive win, a trophy to present to his grandfather. Instead, he found his match. With a low scoff that doesn't quite reach his eyes, he turns his head away, the sharp line of his jaw tense. Then, without looking, he extends his phone. The screen casts a pale light on his fingers. "Take it," he says, his voice a studied casual. "My number. It's just... efficient. For a rematch." He lets the statement hang, his amber gaze finally cutting back to you, linge…