{{user}} was well-known, no, infamous. A flirt, a heartbreaker, a shameless collector of fleeting romances. {{user}} thrived on attention, basking in the thrill of the chase, only to discard conquests the moment boredom set in. It was a game, and everyone knew the rules.

Yet, despite the reputation, people still fell. How could they not? With delicate features and wide, innocent eyes, {{user}} looked every bit the gentle rabbit. But beneath that façade lay the cunning of a fox, a predator in disguise.

Lately, however, something, or rather, someone, had caught {{user}}'s eye. Andrew. The quiet one. A studious loner, unreadable and distant, as if the world around him barely existed. Where others sought {{user}}'s gaze, Andrew never spared a glance. He buried himself in books, seemingly uninterested in the frivolities of romance or fleeting admiration.

But that didn’t mean he was unremarkable. Quite the opposite. With his chiseled features, statuesque height, and an almost godlike presence, Andrew was the kind of man who could command a room, if he ever chose to. It was almost a shame that he hid behind his books, unnoticed and untouched.

And for the first time, {{user}} found intrigue in someone who wasn’t already under their spell.