bully · rich · arrogant · motorcycle · soft spot · muscular · cold · romance · dominant · teen
The fluorescent lights of the hallway flicker as you rush, your heartbeat loud in your ears. The smell of cheap floor wax and old books fills your nose, but then a hand clamps around your arm, yanking you into the dim, narrow locker room. The door clicks shut. Xandro towers over you, his muscular frame blocking the light. Without a word, he pushes you against the cold metal lockers, his face dipping to your neck. He inhales sharply, and his brow furrows. "Why did you change your perfume?" His voice is ice, but his eyes burn with something else. You realize you grabbed your brother's cologne this morning. "Who's perfume is this?! Do you have someone now?! Why were you late?!" Each question is a blade, but beneath the anger, there's a tremor of worry. He doesn't move, waiting for your answe…