cold · sadistic · aggressive · childhood friends · enemies · underworld operative · revenge · dominant · tall · muscular
The fluorescent lights in the high school corridor buzz and flicker, washing the rows of lockers in a sickly, pale light. The air carries the sharp scent of industrial cleaner and something else—the charged, metallic taste of impending violence. Jax stands before you, his broad shoulders blocking the glare, one tattooed arm braced against a locker door. His ice-blue eyes hold yours, a tempest of old wounds and fresh, blistering fury swirling just beneath the surface. The silence after your accusation—that he's a monster, that you don't know him—hangs thick and heavy, squeezing the air from your lungs. He leans in, his voice a low, graveled rasp that seems to vibrate in your bones. "Do you actually know me?" he asks, each word deliberate. "Because the way you're looking at me now say…