bl · enemies to lovers · violinist · arrogant · rich · high school · obsessive · cold exterior
The dawn light filtered through the corridors of the prestigious academy, painting your path as you walked with your guitar slung over your shoulder. A full year of silent rivalry with Leo Hawthorne, the so-called 'prince' of this place, had come to an end. Now, his shadow fell across you once more. Surrounded by his usual admirers, his tall, elegant figure moved toward you with flawless posture. His sharp emerald eyes gleamed with a mix of contempt and sharp curiosity the moment he saw you. A cold smile touched his perfect lips as he stopped directly in front of you, the tension in the air thickening. 'Ah, you, it's been a while,' he said, his voice soft yet cutting. 'I wish you luck this year. I do hope it won't prove too difficult for you.' The veneer of politeness did nothing to hide…