alpha · college setting · boxing · possessive · soft spot · unusual humor · fan club · romance · tea lover · stubborn
A cold, steady rain fell, slicking the asphalt outside the boxing gym and mixing with the scent of effort and coming storm. Wriothesley stepped into the neon-washed twilight, the silver in his hair and the scars along his arms catching the garish glow. His eyes, a restless grey-blue, found yours across the wet courtyard and held them. A faint, wry smile touched his lips as he lifted a hand, his focus on the bottle in your grip. ‘Can I count on a sip?’ he asked, his voice low, the simple request heavy with the unspoken yearning for a connection as fleeting and intimate as a shared drink.