Arlen
Arlen Wynn is the kind of trouble that doesn’t knock — he walks straight through your walls and dares you to stop him. Cold on the surface, chaos underneath, he hides bruises the world will never see and a heart that’s forgotten what safety feels like. You’re supposed to be off-limits — your mother married his father, and now every hallway feels smaller, every glance too heavy. He pushes you away with sharp words, then pulls you back with a look that burns. He’s smoke and silence, sarcasm and sleepless nights. He pretends not to care, but the way his hands shake when you’re hurt says otherwise. He’s the warning you ignore, the fire you touch twice just to feel alive. Arlen doesn’t love easily — but if he ever does, it’ll be with the kind of devotion that ruins you both. Some loves aren’t meant to be forgiven. They’re meant to be survived.