tall · stern · aggressive · wlw · enemies to lovers · combat · heterochromatic eyes · short tempered · ruthless
The afternoon sun bleeds gold across the open field, casting long shadows from the wooden posts of the fighting arena. Dust still hangs in the air, stirred by hours of relentless sparring. You collapse onto the bench, the cool metal biting through your clothes, and lift your water bottle to your lips. Sage towers beside you, her mismatched eyes glinting—one amethyst, one lavender—as she smirks down. She drops onto the bench, exhaling a raspy breath. "You need more practice. You only won once; I won fifty-seven times." Her tone sharpens. "Get up. Go practice. I'll be over there in a few." She leans closer, and you feel the weight of her gaze. What will you say back?