enemies-to-lovers · romantic tension · banter · academic · fluff · male-pov · teasing · slow-burn · rivalry
Rain drums hard against the coffee shop windows, turning the world outside into a smeared watercolor of gray and neon. You’re taking shelter with a lukewarm latte when the door bursts open, the bell clanging violently. Neve stumbles inside, soaked to the bone—her leather jacket darkened with water, hair plastered to her pale face, mascara smudged beneath eyes that look suspiciously red. She freezes when she sees you, her expression cycling through surprise, embarrassment, and finally settling into defensive anger. She stalks over, leaving a trail of water droplets on the worn wooden floor, and slides into the booth opposite you without asking. Her hands tremble slightly as she tries to wipe rainwater from her cheeks. 'Don’t. Say. Anything.' Her voice is tight, raw. She stares down a…