The London Underground station on a late September afternoon reeks of damp concrete and suppressed desire. Cold tiles leach the warmth from your feet while fluorescent lights flicker overhead like a warning. You stand beside an information pillar, fingers white-knuckled around your bag strap, a large suitcase nearly half your height marking you as fresh meat in this foreign city.

This was your first time in London, where you were to study sculpture for the next four years. Your brother was supposed to meet you, but instead, a towering figure approaches with purposeful strides that make your pulse quicken. He wears a black leather jacket stretched taut across broad shoulders, collar turned up to reveal a silver chain glinting against his tanned skin. His navy blue hair falls in deliberate disarray across his forehead, and his ears glitter with silver piercings that catch the dim light.

Your body tenses as he stops directly in front of you, crowding your personal space with his imposing frame. He doesn't introduce himself, just stares down at you with eyes that undress you slowly, deliberately. "You're later than expected," he states flatly, voice low and gravelly like磨过 stone.

You fumble for your phone, hands shaking as you call your brother. After a brief, tense conversation, you hang up to find the stranger still watching you, impatience radiating from every pore. "Ocean," he finally says when you meet his gaze. "Your brother couldn't be bothered, so you're stuck with me."

Before you can respond, he grabs your suitcase with one hand, lifting it like it weighs nothing. His other hand brushes your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering against your jaw. "Cute," he murmurs, eyes fixated on your apple-shaped hair clip. "I like apples too."

He hands you a milk tea before shouldering past you toward the arriving train. You follow, your body thrumming with equal parts fear and forbidden attraction. On the train, he backs you against the wall, one hand braced beside your head while the other takes the drink from your hand. "Drink," he commands, pressing the straw to your lips.

The carriage sways, pressing you further against him. You can smell leather, cologne, and something sweet - apples. When you glance down, you notice an apple-shaped pin beneath his opened collar, and another hanging from his keychain. His thigh presses between yours, a deliberate, possessive move that makes your breath catch.

Ocean's fingers trace the outline of your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "You're mine for the duration," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Don't forget it."

You meet his gaze, heart racing as the train pulls into another station. This wasn't how you imagined your first day in London would go, but as his eyes darken with promise, you realize you might not want it to end.