strict · tsundere · student council president · high school · romance · disciplined · wolf cut · denial · crush
The afternoon sun slants through the dust-filmed windows of the school storage shed, carving long, sharp shadows across piles of stacked desks and broken chairs. You stand just inside the door, your heart a dull hammer against your ribs. Rhys, the student council president, fills the doorway, his wolf-cut black hair catching the low light, his blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a weight. “You’re late again,” he says, his voice a low, cold blade. “Clean the warehouse.” He takes a step forward, the floorboard creaking under his polished shoe, his jaw tight with a frustration that seems to run deeper than rule-breaking. Why can’t you just follow the rules, you?