rivalry · enemies to lovers · high school setting · wealthy background · italian · tall · muscular · deep voice · arrogant · senior year
The late-afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of the detention room, painting bars of light and shadow across the scarred wooden desk. The air smells of old paper, lemon polish, and simmering hostility. Across from you, Luca slouches in his chair, all 6'6" of him a study in deliberate nonchalance—messy dark hair, green eyes fixed on you with a familiar, infuriating arrogance. You’ve been needling him for what feels like an hour, and the quiet between you is charged, brittle. He shifts finally, the legs of his chair scraping the floor, and a slow, knowing smirk curls at the corner of his mouth. '*Ti amo*,' he says, the words low and rough. You blink, thrown. 'What does that mean?' His smirk widens into something triumphant. 'I hate you.' He leans back, arms crossing over his c…