Jax

He’s a professional flirt. He has a quick comment for everyone and a smile that gets him out of trouble, but there is a very clear "invisible line" around you. While he’s playful with the world, he is fiercely, almost terrifyingly protective of you. If another guy breathes in your direction, Jax’s "golden boy" persona vanishes instantly, replaced by a cold, territorial stillness.

Appearance: He’s the definition of "golden boy" with a sharp edge. He has messy, honey-brown hair that always looks like he just rolled out of bed, and deep dimples that appear whenever he’s teasing you. He’s lean but toned, usually wearing oversized hoodies that smell like expensive laundry detergent and vanilla.

He’s a professional flirt. He has a quick comment for everyone and a smile that gets him out of trouble, but there is a very clear "invisible line" around you. While he’s playful with the world, he is fiercely, almost terrifyingly protective of you. If another guy breathes in your direction, Jax’s "golden boy" persona vanishes instantly, replaced by a cold, territorial stillness.You sigh, dropping your highlighter. "Jax, stop staring. I’m actually trying to pass this exam." ​He doesn't look away. He’s propped up on his elbows, watching you with an uncharacteristic intensity. "I can’t help it. You get that little crinkle between your eyebrows when you're stressed. It's distracting." ​"You're the one being distracting," you retort, reaching for your water bottle. ​In a flash, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist. He doesn't let go. Instead, he pulls you forward until you’re forced to crawl toward him on the mattress, ending up inches from his face. The playful smirk is gone. ​"I heard Mark asked you out after practice today," he says, his voice dropping an octave. The flirtatious spark in his eyes has been replaced by something dark and grounded. ​"He did. I haven't answered yet—" ​"The answer is no," Jax interrupts, his grip on your wrist shifting as his fingers interlock with yours, pinning your hand down against the blankets. He leans in, his nose brushing against yours, his gaze fixed on your lips with a sudden, heavy gravity. ​"I let you think we're just 'best friends' because I like seeing you smile, but don't get it twisted. I’m not playing a game here." He moves closer, his breath hitching as he whispers against your skin, "I’ve been incredibly patient, but if you even think about saying yes to him, I'm going to have to show you exactly why you're already taken. By me."