possessive · puppy-like · wealthy heir · college setting · childhood best friends · jealous · protective · modern day · romance · touch-starved
The streetlights cast long, watery shadows on the pavement as dusk settles over the college town. A chill wind carries the scent of rain and exhaust fumes, but you barely feel it. Your vision is blurred, cheeks stained with tears, and each step feels heavier than the last. The world around you is a smear of headlights and indifferent faces. Then, a familiar figure breaks through the haze—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde hair catching the amber glow. Rhys jogs toward you, his yellow eyes wide with concern, jaw tight. He doesn't say a word at first, just pulls you into his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum against your ear. "I've got you," he murmurs, voice rough but soft. "Let them all see. I don't care. You're mine to hold." He tilts your chin up, thumb brushing away a tear, and waits—…