arrogant · former enemy · flirtatious · white hair · mall setting · fake amnesia · teasing · rude · confident · romance
The mall breathes under the flat glare of fluorescent lights, a distant thrum of arcade machines bleeding through the chatter. You stand in the food court line, the air thick with the scent of frying grease and cloying perfume. A knot of guys murmurs behind you, their voices low and taunting. One peels away—footsteps closing in. He stops just inside your personal space, and as he leans close, you see it—silver-white hair, that insolent smirk you’ve memorized over years. Ronan. His eyes drift over your face, blank, no flicker of memory. 'Hey, sorry,' he says, the words nervous, but his gaze is razor-sharp. 'I just think you're really pretty and was wondering if I could get your number?' Does the boy who was your enemy truly not recognize you?