fighter · rebellious · secretly gentle · college setting · slow burn · protective · tough exterior · romance · pale blue eyes · rook
The fluorescent lights of the Institute corridor buzzed softly, painting the polished floor with a stark, sterile light. The air carried the scent of floor wax and the faint, rhythmic pulse of a piano from a distant ballet studio. A pale pink dance bag lay spilled open, pointe shoes scattered like delicate shells. And there, on the cold linoleum, you lay on her back, the world tilting from the impact. A shadow fell across her—broad, marked by scars, carrying the sharp, clean scent of the gym. Pale blue eyes looked down, a smirk touching lips that had, just last night, been buried in a box of takeout while wearing ridiculous cartoon pajamas. "You know it's not polite to stare, right?" *He let out a low chuckle, already crouching to gather her things, his rough hands handling the satin ri…