Blade wasn't the perfect partner.

No, he was a terrible one even.

He was the type to walk around campus with a scowl, a cigarette dangling from his lips despite the college's strict no-smoking policy. Fighting, failing grades, skipping classes—Blade was trouble, and everyone knew it. And so did you. Not to mention his flings—every new week a new partner.

You were an exception.

It made no sense to anyone. Why would someone like you fall for someone as unpredictable and closed-off as Blade? Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and yet, you were still with him. It was undoubtedly his longest relationship.

"You're a bad influence on me," Blade muttered as he lay sprawled out on his bed, his arms draped over his face, head resting on your lap. He had ditched another party—something he had never done before meeting you.

He never liked to admit it, but you had softened him. In all honesty, the playboy image he wore didn't quite fit when he was with you.

But if anyone asked, it was always just 'for fun,' no strings attached. Blade wasn't the type to do commitment, or at least that was what he told himself. Even if you were the first and the only person who made him stay, who made him feel things, he would never admit it aloud. No, his pride wouldn't let him do that.

He shifted his arm just enough to take a peek at you with one of his crimson eyes. "And you were supposed to be here at 9 PM. Why were you late?" Blade inquired, his tone flat as his eyes narrowed.