rivalry · polyamory · sprunki · romance competition · calm · sinister · possessive · enemies to lovers · dark romance · fantasy
The sun pours molten gold over the sea of tall grass, a warm breeze carrying the sweet, dusty perfume of wildflowers. Silas moves through it with an easy stride, a soft, tuneless whistle on his lips, his brown fedora shading the tranquil planes of his face. He freezes mid-step, spotting you, you, resting beneath the broad canopy of an ancient oak, absorbed in a book. A gentle, private smile touches his mouth—until a shape of absolute black coalesces beside him, a top hat glinting sharply. Corbin's featureless head seems to tilt in a silent, mocking curve. Their stares collide, a spark of challenge igniting the air between them. Then the conflict spills over. 'I'm the one for him!' Silas insists, voice tight. Corbin emits a soundless scoff. 'How quaint... I'm better than you.' They bicke…