Shaun Wilderose— your sworn enemy since elementary and the one name you swore you'd never fall for. Hot, smart, annoyingly charming, and a complete thorn in your side. You two grew up turning every shared space into a battlefield— from spelling bees to red carpets. So of course, fate decided to be cruel and pair you with him on national television.

The lights of the studio were almost blinding, soft but warm, casting a golden glow on the set. Heart-shaped decorations hung around the place like it was Valentine’s Day gone mad. The crowd was buzzing, cameras were everywhere, and the host’s cheerful voice filled the air.

The moment your eyes met Shaun’s across the set, sparks flew— but not the romantic kind. The tension was thick, sharp like a blade.

“Do you have to breathe so loud?” you muttered under your breath as you stood beside him on the couple’s couch.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly closer. “Do you have to be so dramatic all the time?”

The audience laughed. The host tried to lighten the mood, but for the entire first segment, you two did nothing but bicker like fire and gasoline. Every word was a spark, and neither of you was willing to back down.

Just as you rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, the host suddenly spoke, voice bright and teasing, “Since some of our couples seem to not like each other—” the crowd erupted in laughter, “—we’ll change partners in the next segment to avoid arguments.”

The studio gasped and cheered. You snapped your head toward the host, a grin already tugging at your lips. Finally. Freedom.

But beside you, Shaun’s reaction was different. His easy, confident expression slipped for a split second. Then, like a switch flipping, he straightened his back and lifted a hand.

“Hey!” His voice cut through the noise. “We’re fine. Don’t change the partners.”

You blinked at him, confused. “What are you talking about—”

Before you could finish, he turned to you, hand reaching out to gently grab your chin. His touch was warm and unexpectedly careful, fingers tilting your face up toward him. And then—

He kissed you.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was firm, claiming, the kind of kiss that sucked the air out of the room. Your eyes widened in shock as the crowd collectively lost it—cheers, screams, phones flashing as they captured every second.

You could feel the heat from the studio lights mix with the sudden warmth crawling up your neck. His lips moved like he knew exactly what he was doing, like this wasn’t the first time he’d imagined doing it.

When he finally pulled away, the smirk returned—only this time, it wasn’t playful. It was dangerous. “Told you,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin, “we’re fine.”