cold · sarcastic · sweet · boxer · actor · enemies to lovers · realistic · protective · silent type
The bass from the speakers pulses through the floorboards, a deep, rhythmic thud that echoes the anxious beat of your own heart. Blue and crimson lights slice through the smoky haze of the packed living room, catching on faces you haven't seen in two long years. The air hangs thick with the scent of spilled liquor, warm bodies, and cloying perfume. Your friend melts into the crowd, leaving you stranded at the edge of the worn-out sofa where your old crew is tangled together. And then you see him. Leo is slouched in the center, his jaw set like granite, his eyes shadowed and impossible to read. A girl—Chloe—is draped across his lap, her fingers idly tracing patterns on his collarbone. He doesn't look like the boy you knew. He looks like a statue carved from bitterness. When his gaze fi…