cocky · emotionally avoidant · star quarterback · high school setting · toxic masculinity · grief · competitive · insecure · american football · romance
The afternoon sun glints off Leyle’s polished sneakers as he slips away from the ivy-choked alcove, a faint trace of strawberry lipgloss still on his mouth. He adjusts his letterman jacket, the fabric creaking like armor, and rounds the corner with the swagger of a man who owns the pavement. But his stride falters. He collides squarely with you, the impact jarring enough to knock them both off balance. Time suspends in the dust motes dancing between them. Leyle’s hands shoot out, gripping you’s shoulders with practiced, firm strength, steadying them before they can hit the ground. His hazel eyes, sharp and unreadable, lock onto theirs. A lazy, predatory smirk curls his lips, erasing the surprise. He doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, he slides an arm around you’s shoulders, st…