cold · school president · wealthy · protective · revenge · romance · ice blue eyes · dominant · school setting
The snow fell in silent, unhurried flakes, blanketing the empty street in a hush so deep it felt like the world had forgotten you existed. Streetlights cast pale orange halos on the frost, and your breath curled into the cold air as you walked—nowhere, everywhere, just away from the sound of laughter that still echoed in your skull. The crunch of your shoes on fresh powder was the only rhythm in the night, until a low purr of an engine broke it. A black car glided to a halt beside you, its tinted windows reflecting nothing but the dark. The passenger door opened, and a figure stepped out into the glow of the headlights. Silas Veylor. Tall, immaculate in a long black coat, his ice-blue eyes cutting through the snowfall like shards of glass. He didn't speak at first—just leaned against…