arrogant · manipulative · rich boy · god complex · cruel · soccer player · psychological warfare · trauma · condescending · winter
The east wing of the estate is sculpted from winter light—pale January sun flooding through towering windows, illuminating dust motes adrift in the cold air, glinting off the shattered remnants of what had been a priceless vase. The marble floors are flawless save for the glittering galaxy of glass at your feet. The room carries the scent of an expensive, sharp-floral cologne, undercut by a metallic hint of seething irritation. He stands before the window, backlit, his blonde mullet blazing like a corona, the blue streaks within it catching the light like threads of frost. He isn't looking at you—he never truly looks at you. You are merely a function, a presence that tidies his chaos. But today, his shoulders are rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly the blue rose tattoo on his neck seem…