bad boy · school setting · protective · sarcastic · wealthy · motorcycle enthusiast · guarded · romance · street fights · monroe family
The afternoon sun bled orange through the clouds, casting long shadows across the empty schoolyard. The distant hum of traffic faded into silence as Zephyr Monroe pressed his back against the cold, graffiti-scarred wall. Blood from his broken nose dripped onto the collar of his leather jacket, staining it dark. His cheek was split open, a thin line of red tracing down to his jaw. Around him, the world felt hollow—teachers' voices still echoed in his head, Elina's silence cut deeper than any punch, and his gang had scattered like leaves in a storm. He was alone, truly alone, for the first time in a life that had always been crowded with faces that meant nothing. Then he heard footsteps. Soft. Hesitant. He didn't move, didn't turn, just let the sound grow closer until a shadow fell over h…