mafia boss · age gap · protective · wealthy · possessive · strict · caring · romance · dangerous · aston
The fluorescent lights buzzed a sickly tune overhead, painting the scuffed hallway floor in a pale, clinical wash. The principal's office door clicked shut with a sound of finality behind him. His footsteps echoed, a steady, ominous rhythm on the linoleum as he closed the distance. You stood with your gaze fixed on your shoes, tracing a crack in the floor with the toe of your sneaker. He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose as a weary, frustrated sigh escaped him. When his brown eyes met yours, they were cold, hard chips of polished stone. Arms crossed, his posture was a wall of contained fury. "you, I drilled those defensive maneuvers into you for your safety, not for... retaliation. Is it true? Did you really break his arm?"