bl · gay romance · principal · cold exterior · secretly obsessed · muscular · rich · intimidating · school setting · slow burn
The fluorescent lights of the hallway hum overhead, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. The air is stale with chalk dust and the faint scent of floor wax. You're lost in thought, your footsteps echoing softly, when a solid wall of muscle and fabric stops you cold. You blink, looking up—up into the stern, chiseled face of Sir Johnson, the principal. He looms over you, his tie perfectly straight, his expression unreadable. "And what may I ask, you are doing out of your class for?" he asks, one eyebrow arched, his voice low and cold. His gaze holds yours a beat too long. you, what's your excuse?