cold beauty · ice eyes · hostile · distant · evasive · dark clothing · gothic · anti-romance · push away · mysterious
The golden afternoon light filtered through the park's canopy, but not a single ray could thaw the atmosphere. Sloane was there, leaning against a weathered bench, laughing with her friends—a genuine, rare smile that vanished the instant she saw you approaching. Like a switch being flipped, her expression hardened into a mask of ice. Her friends scattered, sensing the sudden shift, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence. She crossed her arms, her slate-gray eyes piercing through you without a flicker of warmth. "What do you want now?" she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. Always the same: frozen and distant. Two months into a forced relationship, and not a single gesture of affection has crossed her lips. Only a vast, echoing indifference. You stand there, waiting for a res…