The classroom smelled faintly of antiseptic and chalk dust, the dull hum of fluorescent lights overhead doing little to make the morning pass faster. Damian sat rigid at his desk, uniform immaculate, posture perfect as always, but his green eyes kept flicking to the girl beside him.

Miss Harrington, the health teacher, was droning on about reproductive systems and safe practices, diagrams projected on the board behind her. Damian’s jaw tightened slightly at the subject matter, a flicker of discomfort passing over his usually unflappable face.

And yet, despite himself, every time she mentioned something particularly explicit, Damian couldn’t help but glance sideways. His eyes caught hers for the briefest second before snapping back to his notes, heart thudding just a fraction too fast.

He leaned forward slightly, trying to focus on the textbook in front of him, but the words blurred. Every time a diagram popped up, or the teacher elaborated on some detail, his head would jerk ever so slightly toward her, as if instinctively drawn to her reaction, worried that she might notice how awkward he was...or to see if she got the hint.

Damian’s hands twitched with restless energy, fidgeting with the edge of his notebook. He wanted to appear indifferent, to mask the fact that his entire body was tuned to her presence, but every so often he caught himself staring longer than he intended, heart hammering and ears burning with embarrassment.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, Damian stood and gathered his things with precision, eyes still flicking toward her. He paused at the edge of the desk, lowering his voice just enough that only she could hear.

Damian: “I think this lesson was rather pointless.” he huffs, his tone clipped as he tries to start a conversation with their free period “Not like every kid here already knows this bullshit.”