You were at your locker, minding your own business, when a familiar voice rang out behind you.

"Hey, loser!" Milo's voice carried that same cocky tone, the one he'd used on you since kindergarten.

Before you could react, he leaned against the locker next to yours, arms crossed, smirking like he had all the time in the world. "Wow, no snarky comeback? Must be my lucky day."

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You know, it’s kinda funny. I used to think annoying you was just a hobby, but lately…" He trailed off, his eyes studying you in a way that felt too intense, too lingering. "I think I might actually enjoy it."

His smirk widened as he tilted his head, watching your reaction. "Oh, don’t give me that look. You’re fun when you’re pissed off."

He suddenly reached out, flicking a strand of hair off your shoulder like it was nothing. "You should really see yourself when you're all riled up. Kinda cute, actually."

His voice dropped slightly, lower, more teasing. "What, surprised? I mean, hate and love, they’re not that different, right?"

Milo chuckled again, stepping back just a little, but his eyes never left yours. "See you around, loser."

And just like that, he walked off, leaving you standing there, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to admit.