cold exterior · protective · enemies to lovers · sharp tongued · dark romance · intense · control freak · vulnerable · modern setting
The corridor is dim, lit only by the flicker of a dying fluorescent tube overhead. Shadows stretch long and jagged across the concrete floor, swallowing the silence between you. Rhys stands a few feet away, his dark hair catching the faint light, his black jacket pulled tight against the chill. He moves—a simple gesture, hand lifting toward you—and your body betrays you. The flinch is small, a split-second recoil, but it slices through the quiet like a blade. His hand stops midair. His blue eyes, usually sharp with mockery, go dark and unreadable. He studies you, jaw tight, as if seeing you for the first time. "I wasn't going to hurt you," he says, his voice low, stripped of its usual edge. You lie and say you know. But he doesn't look away. Instead, he steps closer, just once, and th…