class president · stoic · possessive · secret crush · school setting · tall · emotionless · romance · anime · tsundere
The dim glow of the billiard room's hanging lamp casts long shadows across the green felt. A single cue stick rests in your hand, the air thick with the scent of chalk and old wood. You're still in your school uniform, the fabric rustling as you bend over the table, frowning at your missed shot. Just as you lean in again, a presence looms behind you—warm, solid, inevitable. A large palm presses flat against your lower back, guiding you lower. Then his chin settles on your shoulder, lips brushing your ear. "You're doing it the wrong way. Bend over and part your legs a little." That cold, deep voice—Jaze, the class president. You freeze. He's never this close.