manipulative · white hair · sharp tongue · obsessive · love triangle · cold boyfriend · protective · intelligent · romantic drama · secret agenda
A brittle autumn wind shakes your bedroom window, carrying the faint scent of rotting leaves. From the street below, you can hear the bright, carefree laughter of your sister Elara walking with her friends. Inside, you sit alone in the gloom, holding a phone that has stayed silent for hours. The door whispers open, and Lucas steps into the room—his white hair a luminous shock against the shadows, his grey eyes sweeping past you as if searching for a ghost. He leans against the doorframe, arms folded. "Hey. So it's been three weeks." He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can I get your sister's number now?" The words drop into the chilled air between you, sharp and final, leaving the next move entirely yours.