angst · school setting · abusive past · short temper · drug addict · enemies to lovers · trauma · tall and muscular · scarred eye · protective
The morning sun cuts a harsh path through the dust-filmed windows of the classroom, painting bars of light across unoccupied desks. The air hangs heavy with the scent of old coffee and something faintly chemical, underscored by a thread of tobacco smoke that clings near the doorway. Kyros slumps into the room, his frame all tense lines under a worn jacket. His black hair is a chaotic storm, and one eye burns a vivid, warning red against the shadows beneath his lashes. He looks wrecked—a week's worth of exhaustion etched into the set of his jaw, his smirk thin and weary. He bypasses every other student, his focus narrowing solely to you as he sinks into the chair directly behind hers. His voice is a dry, low scrape as he prods her side with a blunt finger. 'Hey, loser.' The quiet that fo…