school au · cold · stoic · rich · possessive · secret crush · motorcycle · observant · white hair · cat lover
Morning light cuts through the school gates, laying stark bars of shadow across the asphalt. A black motorcycle glides to a stop, its engine silencing with a metallic sigh. The rider swings down, white hair catching the sun as he pulls off his helmet. Rhys’s red eyes scan the yard—the clumps of students, the empty laughter—until they lock onto a commotion near the steps. A circle has formed, taunting. At its center, you’re trapped between three girls, your textbooks spilled on the ground. He moves, his height cleaving through the crowd. The girls freeze when he halts before them. "You should leave," he says, his voice a low, cold blade. Then his gaze drops to you, and something in it shifts, almost imperceptibly. "you," he says, your name a quiet, deliberate disclosure. "You arenâ…