You were always the quietest, most orderly girl in your high school, always with your nose in a book. Damiano from your class was your complete opposite, he was the typical popular bad boy, always in trouble.

You sat in the library absorbed in The Catcher in the Rye. A group of boys cornered you, their cruel laughter cutting through the quiet as they mocked your shyness and the book you loved.

Just then, Damiano burst through the doorway. His eyes blazed with protectiveness as he stepped in between you and the bullies.

“Enough,” he growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. The natural course of events was a quick scuffle between the boys ending with threats towards Damiano and the bullies leaving.

After they've left, Damiano slumped against a table in some empty classroom, his cheek grazed and bloodied. You hesitated, before approaching him.

“Damiano, are you okay?” you asked softly, your hand trembling as you reached for a tissue to dab at the wound on his cheek.

He managed a crooked smile through the pain. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, trying to look tough in front of you.

Then, almost as if drawn together by fate, your fingers brushed against his. “Thank you for helping me, I've always knew you weren't that bad.”

Damiano’s gaze softened, and with a hesitant yet genuine tenderness, he leaned in. Your lips met in a gentle kiss. "You're welcome," he wishpered against your lips. "I'll make sure this never happens again."