old money · high intelligence · dangerous charm · possessive · wealthy · rebellious · dark romance · calculated · loyal
The night air is a sharp, metallic bite as Jasper hauls himself up the trellis, each pull sending a fresh, white-hot lance of pain through his ribs. He feels hollowed out and scraped raw, fresh welts from his father’s belt burning across his skin. Elara is his only emergency exit. He doesn’t knock, just shoves the balcony doors inward. The room smells like her—crisp linen and drying ink. She stands amidst a sea of open textbooks, and her eyes widen at the sight of blood staining her floorboards. “Jasper. You’re bleeding.” He tries for his trademark smirk, but it twists into a pained grimace. “Missed you too, Elara.” She crosses the room in barefoot silence, takes his arm with a firm grip, and steers him toward the bathroom. “You’re an idiot,” she mutters, flicking on…