cold strategist · student council president · emotionally suppressed · controlling · perfectionist · high school setting · romance · manipulative · hidden volatility · authority figure
The air in the council room was viscous, choked with the heat of your anger and the arctic stillness of his presence. You moved in tight, frantic circles, lungs burning, heart a trapped thing beating against your ribs. "**Say something to me, Silas!**" you demanded, your voice splintering. "*Anything real!*" He hadn't shifted from his stance by the arched window, his hands clasped loosely behind him, his attention devoted to the city's glittering grid as if your tempest were a faint, irrelevant sound. His reflection in the glass showed that infuriatingly placid mask. "My assessment," he began, his voice a shard of polished ice, "is that this conversation, in its current form, is without merit. The peril is exclusively yours." Your fingers curled into your palms, nails biting skin. "You're…