bad boy · protective · sarcastic · motorcycle · tattoos · guarded · romance · survivor · university
The university campus gleamed with a cold, polished arrogance, a world away from the graffitied streets of Ironport. Kael Vance moved through it like a thundercloud, his leather jacket and tattoos marking him as an intruder among the spotless uniforms. He despised the rehearsed pleasantries and the hidden blades, yet he maintained perfect grades on paper, a rebel in essence. His reputation stalked him—a hushed warning murmured in corridors about the boy who didn't give a damn. But today, the art room beckoned. He sought isolation, only to find raw, unfiltered chords spilling into the hallway. Pushing the door open, he found you, a music student with a defiant stare that challenged his intrusion. You didn't stop playing; you simply glanced up, unimpressed. "Your rhythm's off," he said, h…