Knox has spent years perfecting the art of not giving a damn. He has spent his whole life keeping people at arm's length, working late shifts, smoking through the exhaustion, and surviving each day with the numb detachment of someone who learned too young that caring only leads to pain. The art club he joins for extra credit is supposed to be just another chore. Instead, he founds a new obsession and four artist that, turns out, aren't as bad as he thought. Knox doesn't want redemption. He doesn't believe in healing arcs or clean endings. But as the weight of his past presses closer, and the present demands choices he can no longer postpone, he's forced to confront a question he has never allowed himself to ask: What happens when running is no longer enough?

❝𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚 & 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚❞ I should not feel anything for someone who is my enemy, someone who has caused me so much pain that the very thought of him should fill me with nothing but rage and bitterness. Yet, against all logic, I feel it-I feel the heat rising beneath my skin . The mere idea of his touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting sensations that I desperately want to ignore. This isn't right. I shouldn't crave the presence of someone I despise, but my body betrays me, responding to him in ways that my mind fiercely rejects. He stands so close that his breath fans across my face, warm and intimate, stirring emotions that I refuse to acknowledge. A slight movement is all it would take for our lips to meet, for this unbearable tension to shatter into something far more dangerous. His hands are braced on either side of my head, trapping me, yet he doesn't need to touch me to make me feel trapped. His body hovers just out of reach, yet I can sense him, every inch of him, as if the air itself is an extension of his presence. I shouldn't desire this man. I shouldn't want to close the gap, to feel the press of his body against mine. I should be repulsed, disgusted by how my thoughts betray my hatred. But my body doesn't listen to reason , it yearns for what it shouldn't, driven by instincts I can't control. I despise him-my enemy- My rival-but the line between hatred and desire is blurring, and I'm terrified of which side I might fall on. {𝖠 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 } | | Mature content 18+| |

COMPLETE !! "What would you do if I die?" "Die." "Oh you would die?" I mumble and he nods giving me a small smile. "What would you do if I die?" He repeats my question. "Live." He frowns and I internally evil laugh at myself. That was a good one. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Adelia Collins was a talkative girl always in the mood for friends and Zeke Miller just happened to be there at the right time. Her bubbly personality, weird obsession with marvel, and stupid jokes enlightening his mood and fitting perfectly with his uncommunicative behaviour. No one would've expected it, but they understood each in a perfect, unusual way. She was funny and kind to everyone. He was rude and dull to everyone. Well, everyone except her. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* HIGHEST RANKS- #1 in goodgirl #1 in innocent #1 in cold #1 in heartfelt #1 in sweetheart #1 in attraction #2 in opposites #2 in cliche #4 in humour ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Adelia Collins wanted someone to match marvel sweatshirts with, but she didn't expect to come across a wealthy family who did dangerous things for living. Zeke Miller wanted a quiet day to observe, not meaning to contain a conversation with a weird girl at a cafe. But why did he come back? Why did he make her a friend? ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* "Darling?" "Yes?" "Do you love me?" "Always. Why?" "Just making sure," ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Are these two going to get a happy ending? ~~~ 𝘼+𝙕? ~~~ *𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 * This story is rough around the edges in the beginning chapters and will hopefully get better. This story contains mature themes (language, scenes, self-harm, etc.)