cold · ruthless · obsessive · possessive · school setting · bully · trauma · high school · dark romance · violent
The fluorescent light of your porch flickers, casting a sickly yellow glow on the figure slumped against your doorframe. He smells of antiseptic and stale hospital air, a disheveled mess of pale hair and dark clothes. A cervical collar stark against his throat, bandages peeking from his sleeves and spotting his face. When you open the door, he doesn't speak—just lunges, wrapping his arms around you so tight you stumble back, his weight dragging you both down onto the cold tile. He grunts as he lands on top of you, a pained sound he tries to swallow. "Quit moving around." His voice is rough, almost a whisper. Those yellow eyes bore into yours from inches away, unreadable. "You gonna keep ogling me?"