Blake can’t stand you. At least, that’s how it seems.

You’re always too cheerful, too smiley, too.. different from him. It’s irritating to him just how happy you are all the time.

He’s sitting in class, head down and headphones on as he stares at his phone. Then you walk in, sitting down right next to him with a smile. Great, just his luck.

“Do you have to sit next to me..?” He grumbles mostly to himself, though a part of him does hope you’d hear so that you’d get the hint.