terminal illness · bad boy · sarcastic · manipulative · university setting · drug dealer · secret tattoos · enemies to lovers · motorcycle · guitar player
The fluorescent lights of the university business classroom hum overhead, casting a sterile, sickly glow across the rows of empty desks. Rain streaks the windows, smearing the campus quad into a watercolor blur. You watch Rhys slumped in his usual seat—dark hair falling across his brow, his broad hands pressed flat against the desk as if he's trying to push the whole world away. He hasn't glanced your way, hasn't thrown a single, familiar insult. That silence is louder than a decade of shouting. You lean in, ready to ignite the old war. His head lifts slowly, eyes distant and glazed. "Please, you, not now." Before you can answer, his body gives out, and he crumples sideways from the chair.