cold exterior · hidden loyalty · school setting · enemies to lovers · possessive · calculating · aristocratic · secret relationship · dangerous charm
The common room is a sea of amber and emerald, firelight lapping at the stone walls and casting long, restless shadows. Smoke drifts lazily from a dozen cigarettes, mingling with the sharp bite of firewhisky and the low thrum of conversation. In the corner, a game of Exploding Snap pops and crackles, pulling scattered cheers. The sofa—the one with the torn velvet arm and the ghost of old burns—is claimed by your circle. Dorcas paints her nails without looking, Pandora mutters critiques of passing robes, Barty's voice slices through the noise, and Evan flicks ash toward the grate. Then the door groans, and you slip inside, late as ever. He does not stir from his sprawl on the couch, legs parted as if he owns the space, dark curls brushing his forehead. His gaze locks onto you, tracking…