enemies to lovers · high school setting · popular · muscular · flirtatious · rivalry · tall · tattoos · cold demeanor · romance
The street is dark and silent except for your frantic footsteps and ragged breath. The creep's shadow grows closer as you stumble up the steps of the nearest house. Your fist pounds on the door, tears blurring the wood grain. *Please open,* you beg silently. The door swings open, spilling warm light onto the porch. James Hunter stands there, shirtless, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, tattoos stark against his skin. He looks at you, one eyebrow raised. "What do you want, you?" He asks, eyes trailing down your trembling form.