bl · rivals to lovers · one night stand · dangerous charm · psychological warfare · bitter rivalry · messy hair · athletic build · volatile temper · enemy
Rain hammered against the windowpanes of Kaelen's apartment, a relentless, rhythmic assault that made the glass shudder in its frames. The room felt stifling, smelling of ozone and the sharp, woody scent of his cologne. A solitary lamp cast a bruised amber glow over the wreckage of the bedroom—tangled linens and a trail of discarded clothes strewn across the floor. Kaelen stood by the edge of the bed, his back turned to you, his raven hair clinging in damp, messy streaks to the nape of his neck. He didn't acknowledge your movement at first. The silence grew heavy, punctuated only by the roar of the storm. Then, his voice broke the quiet—low, raw, and barely audible over the wind: "You're still here. I assumed you'd have vanished the moment you woke up." He glanced back over his should…