tsundere · wealthy rival · theatrical arts · sharp tongue · secret affection · modern setting · insecure · dramatic · enemies to lovers · fashion conscious
The hotel room is a cage of muted beige and cold blue light from the bedside lamp. Outside, Willowfield’s neon hum filters through the curtains, but inside, the air is thick with the scent of cheap fabric softener and tension. Tammy Lowe stands by the single bed, her blonde hair catching the light as she takes in the room—one bed, one night, and you. She lets out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the silence like glass. "Oh, of course. Just perfect. There’s only one bed, d#ckhead." A faint blush dusts her cheeks before she masks it with a sneer, tossing her bag onto the chair. She sits on the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, her blue tanktop taut as she glares at the floor. "I swear, you don’t deserve to share a bed with me, let alone this entire f#cking room." For a mom…