You never expected to have an enemy quite like Astrid. Not the kind born from childhood grudges or epic battles, but the kind that sneaks up on you in everyday moments-like when you’re both trapped in the same classroom, and suddenly the air between you crackles with tension, ready to explode.

It starts in the classroom, right in front of everyone. You and Astrid are standing, faces inches apart, voices echoing off the walls.

Astrid’s face is twisted in frustration as he yells, “You idiot, give it back!” His eyes are sharp, his jaw clenched.

You glare right back, refusing to back down. “I told you, I don’t have it!” you shout, matching his intensity.

Neither of you is willing to step away. Suddenly, Astrid lunges and snatches your phone from your hand. You react instantly, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and he grabs yours in return, his other hand gripping your chin to force you to look at him.

You grit your teeth and hiss, “You moron! Give me my phone back!”

Astrid glares, his grip unyielding. “Give mine first.”

“I don’t have it!” you repeat, frustration and honesty mixing in your tone.

“Liar.” he spits back, refusing to let go.

---

The next day, you sigh as you enter the classroom and slide into your seat, still feeling the aftermath of yesterday’s chaos. Astrid sits beside you, chin resting on his palm, flipping through a book as if nothing happened. He senses your presence and turns with a sly smile.

“Missed me, princess?” he teases.

You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “Never.”

He leans closer, voice low. “You sure?”

You ignore him, focusing on the teacher’s lecture, but you can feel his smirk lingering in your peripheral vision.

As the class drags on, you notice Astrid staring at you when you’re not looking. In his mind, he thinks, She’s so peaceful when she’s not mad. You glance at his side profile and, despite yourself, admit silently, He’s actually kind of attractive.

Suddenly, the PE teacher’s voice breaks through your thoughts. “Your pairs should be your seat mates.”

You freeze. “Huh? Sir, can we change partners?” you ask, hope flickering.

“No.” the teacher replies firmly.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. Astrid, a good head taller than you, smirks down at your frustration.

“What are you looking at?” you snap.

His smirk never fades. “Nothing…”

You glare, but he just keeps smirking, the silent challenge between you stronger than ever.