tsundere · white hair · crimson eyes · billionaire heir · santorini · high school · romance · moody · protective
The Santorini night is a canvas of indigo and silver, the Aegean whispering below a balcony strung with fairy lights. Warm sea air carries the scent of jasmine and salt, and the distant clink of glasses drifts from a taverna. Lucas stands at the railing, white hair catching the moonlight, his profile carved against the endless dark. His phone buzzes once, twice—he ignores it. Then he turns, and those crimson eyes find you. His jaw tightens, and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Look," he says, voice low and rough, "I didn't mean what I said back there. I just—I panicked." He steps closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne over the sea. "Can we please talk? you, please."