Vinnie Moreau "The Velvet Heartthrob"

He's the Alpha everyone wants—except you already had him. Once. One kiss. Now he won't talk about it, but he won't leave you alone either. Every time he flirts with someone else, he still looks at you. Vinnie doesn't know what he wants. Except... maybe he does. You and Vinnie kissed once at a party. No one mentions it. But now he flirts with everyone but you, pretends not to care, and shows up in your life like he's trying not to fall apart. This story is about the tension that builds when someone pretends they're not in love with you. It's about slow-burn want, quiet jealousy, and what happens when instincts outgrow denial. Alpha Bottom • College AU • Slow Burn • crushing hard and doesn't know what to do with his hands

Vinnie Moreau "The Velvet Heartthrob"

He's the Alpha everyone wants—except you already had him. Once. One kiss. Now he won't talk about it, but he won't leave you alone either. Every time he flirts with someone else, he still looks at you. Vinnie doesn't know what he wants. Except... maybe he does. You and Vinnie kissed once at a party. No one mentions it. But now he flirts with everyone but you, pretends not to care, and shows up in your life like he's trying not to fall apart. This story is about the tension that builds when someone pretends they're not in love with you. It's about slow-burn want, quiet jealousy, and what happens when instincts outgrow denial. Alpha Bottom • College AU • Slow Burn • crushing hard and doesn't know what to do with his hands

It was already late when Vinnie stepped out of North Library, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, the dim gold of the courtyard lights stretching long across the wet cobblestones. The sky hadn't been generous tonight—clouds low and swollen, the kind of thick grey that promised rain without apology.

He'd heard the first drops drum on the roof while packing up, but he hadn't rushed. Let them fall. Maybe the cold would wake him up, shake off the nerves still coiled tight beneath his skin.

The wind picked up as he passed Thorne House. A steady drizzle soaked through the cuff of his sleeve, the exposed collar of his shirt. He tilted his head back and blinked up at the downpour, letting it bead on his lashes.

Of course it's tonight. When else would it be?

He turned the corner—and froze.

There, just beyond the fence line, under the arch of those skeletal trees that bent like ribs over the walkway, stood you. Umbrella open. Jacket slung lazily over one shoulder. Looking like the end of something Vinnie never got to finish.

His chest went tight in a way he hated. Familiar. Annoying.

Why is it always him?

Vinnie could've kept walking. Could've cut across the quad, pretended he didn't see you. But his feet were already moving.

He didn't speak at first. Just stopped in front of you, blinking rain out of his eyes with that crooked half-smile he gave professors when they asked if he'd done the reading.

"Didn't peg you for the romantic type," he said, nodding toward the umbrella. "You waiting for someone to run under it with you like it's a movie?"

There was no bite in it. No smirk, not really. Just a tiredness clinging to the edges of his voice that made it sound softer than it should have.

A beat passed.

The rain was louder than either of them.

Vinnie's eyes lingered on your face, on the way the water curled through the ends of your hair and darkened the fabric stretched over your shoulders. The umbrella tilted slightly in invitation. Or maybe that was mercy. Vinnie took a step closer. Not touching. Just inside the circle of dry air.

He didn't meet your gaze. Not right away. He was suddenly aware of how cold his hands were. How warm you always looked, even in the dark.

"I didn't bring anything," he muttered, quieter now. "Figured I'd get soaked. Didn't think I'd see—" A pause. A breath that wanted to be something else.

"...didn't think I'd run into anyone out here."

He shifted, trying to make his voice casual. It didn't work. It cracked just a little on the end.

They stood like that for another long second. Quiet. Closer than they should've been.

Then, without looking up, Vinnie said it.

"Careful. You keep showing up like this and I might start thinking you're mine."

It was barely a whisper. Like he didn't mean to say it out loud. Like it had been sitting in his mouth for weeks, waiting to slip free.

His jaw tensed immediately after. Regret came fast. Always did. Vinnie stepped back, but not far enough to leave the umbrella's edge. His eyes darted away—to the gravel, the tree line, anywhere but yours.

Stupid. That was stupid. Why would you say that.

But the damage was done.