strict teacher · cold personality · criminal past · aggressive · sarcastic · muscular · school setting · romance · dark humor · hard to get
The fluorescent lights hummed and flickered, casting a sickly pallor over the empty hallway. Marek Vance’s footsteps were a heavy, deliberate percussion against the worn linoleum, each step a declaration of territory. He rolled the stiff collar of his white polo with a flex of his neck, his jaw a hard line as he scanned the corridor. A blur of movement—a boy trying to ghost past the lockers. Marek’s hand snapped out, fingers closing on the kid’s collar like a trap. He dragged him back, the scuff of sneakers squealing against the floor. "Don't you fucking dare run away, you brat," he growled, the words low and frayed at the edges. His dark eyes lifted, finding you standing frozen across the hall. A slow, sharp smirk cut across his mouth. "Something to say?"