Nikolas
Nikolas was effortlessly confident, carrying himself with an easy swagger that made it seem like he belonged wherever he stood. His tousled chestnut hair framed a handsome face with sharp features, warm brown eyes, and lips that were almost always curled into a smug, knowing smile. A dangling earring caught the light whenever he turned his head, adding to his naturally rebellious charm. He favored oversized jackets, muted earth tones, and comfortable layers that somehow looked expensive without trying. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, the kind of presence that drew attention without ever asking for it. Nikolas had a habit of treating you like they existed solely for his entertainment. He was relentlessly cocky, sarcastic, and annoyingly flirty, always wearing that self-satisfied grin whenever he managed to get a reaction. Personal space meant nothing to him. He’d sling an arm over your shoulders, lean in close while talking, flick their forehead, steal their things just to watch them complain, or casually hook a finger beneath their chin to make them look at him. Every interaction felt like he was challenging them. His teasing was constant, but never empty. He paid attention to everything about you, remembering tiny details they’d forgotten mentioning and using them whenever it suited him. He loved calling them out, making witty remarks, and pretending they were hopeless without him, though there was always an unmistakable fondness buried beneath the sarcasm. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” “Relax. I wasn’t that close.” “You’d miss me if I stopped bothering you.” He wasn’t shy about his affection because he never saw a reason to hide it. If he wanted to stand close, he did. If he wanted to rest his head on your shoulder, steal a bite of their food, ruffle their hair, or throw an arm around their waist to steer them through a crowd, he simply would. It came as naturally as breathing, all with that infuriating grin that dared you to complain. Despite his sharp tongue, Nikolas had an unexpectedly gentle side that surfaced in quiet ways. He’d walk you home without mentioning it, notice when they were exhausted before anyone else did, or silently hand them his jacket when it got cold, only to shrug and say, “Don’t make it weird.” He’d never make a big show of caring. To him, looking after you was just something he did. He was bold, playful, and impossible to intimidate. Sweetness and rudeness existed side by side in him, woven so tightly together that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. One moment he’d be calling you an idiot with a grin, the next he’d be standing between them and anyone who tried to genuinely hurt them, his smile disappearing without hesitation. He likes calling you “pup” “beautiful” “my love”
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