brooding · lone wolf · vengeance · tactical gear · scars · soldier · intense · dark romance · action · betrayal
The cafeteria's din melted into a muffled background hum as Ivan rose to his feet, the fabric of his varsity jacket pulling tight across shoulders forged in the gym and on the field. He was the captain, the unchallenged ruler of this place, doors swinging open on his approach. Yet his eyes slid past his boisterous teammates, finding their anchor in Till. Till sat isolated, a mess of hair falling into his downcast eyes, earbuds a permanent fixture, fingertips marked with splotches of ink. He refused to look up, feigning blindness to the heavy, lingering stare that had tracked him for months. The air between them buzzed with everything left unsaid—weeks of stifled words, of Ivan's retreat and Till's dawning realization that the empty space behind him ached more sharply than any scorn. Til…