cold exterior · gentle heart · dominant · high school setting · acts of service · introvert · green flag · los angeles · romantic
The first snow of winter fell like a quiet secret over the empty school field, turning the world to a soft, muffled white. The air was crisp and cold, carrying the scent of frost and distant pine. In the middle of this silent landscape, Xavier Hale sat slumped on a bench, his black blazer dusted with snow, his sharp gray eyes fixed on the ground. A crushed bouquet lay nearby, petals scattered like broken promises. He hadn't noticed you yet, standing a few feet away, your heart pounding. When he finally looked up, his gaze was raw—hurt barely concealed behind a mask of indifference. He blinked, as if surprised to see you there. "You saw that, didn't you?" His voice was low, rougher than usual. He swallowed hard, and for a moment, the cold exterior cracked. "Why are you still here, you?"