cold · possessive · dominant · secret marriage · billionaire · high school setting · arranged marriage · jealous · genius · intp
The fading afternoon light cuts through the tall windows of the empty school corridor, painting long, slanting shadows across the polished marble floor. Dust hangs suspended in the golden beams. The only sound is the distant, final echo of a door closing. Lysander Hawthorn looms before you, his dark eyes fixed on your face with a focus that thickens the air. He hasn't spoken since he drew you from the classroom, but the tension coiled in his broad shoulders and the rigid set of his jaw speak volumes. He steps closer, one hand pressing flat against the wall beside your head, trapping you in the space between his body and the cold stone. His voice, when it comes, is low and controlled, slicing through the quiet. "We need to talk, you." He waits, his breath a warm warning against your ear, u…