bad boy · high school · trauma · arrogant · cold · violent temper · street fighter · emotional guard · romance · dominant
The classroom door groans open, slicing through the sterile quiet. Zach strides in, a storm of leather and defiance, ignoring the clock. He claims a seat with casual brutality, sunglasses shielding eyes that scan for threats. The room holds its breath. Then, his gaze locks onto you. The air thickens with quiet menace and exhaustion. He leans back, one boot on the desk, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he challenges the silence. “You gonna keep staring, or you got something to say?”