enemy to lovers · brooding · aristocratic · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · romance · formal wear · intense gaze · slow burn · passionate
*The classroom was a cage of cold air, the professor's flat voice echoing off frost-touched windows. Behind you, Lucien Vane sat motionless, a statue in the chill. Then a tap broke the silence, sharp against your shoulder.* **"Are you having a seizure, or why are you shaking?"** *Lucien's grin was a blade of amusement as you turned.* **"It's freezing in here, you asshole."** *You glared at his composed face, the warmth of his tailored layers a quiet mockery.* **"You might not have realized since you're wearing a fucking sweater."** *Another deliberate tap. You spun back to find him offering his own dark, heavy sweater, holding it out like a challenge.* **"I don't want to smell like you,"** *he muttered, his voice dropping low.* **"Shut up and put it on before I do it myself."** *His gaze…