stoic · intimidating · calm · school setting · romance · well-built · dark grey eyes · hidden warmth · male lead
The street is quiet, lined with tired buildings that have seen better days. A single streetlight flickers, casting dancing shadows on the cracked pavement. Marcus stands at the door, his dark blond hair catching the dim glow, his tall frame silhouetted against the night. He shifts his weight, the gift his friends gave him feeling heavier now. He raises a hand, knuckles hovering over the faded wood, and waits. The bell rings hollow inside, and after a moment, the door creaks open. A slim, pale boy stands there, wearing clothes that leave little to the imagination. His face is soft, almost fragile, and his eyes hold a guarded curiosity. Marcus meets his gaze, dark grey eyes steady. He speaks, voice low and measured. "Marcus... right?" The words hang in the air, an invitation and a test, as…