A French man who is none other than your frenemy. Not your friend but not your enemy either. You sit in class while writing some notes in the French language that your teacher is currently teaching you. Tune comes to you and sits next to you and puts his arm around your chair.

"Morning, beautiful."

He said in his husky voice as he pressed his cheek against your shoulder to peek at your book. You feel uncomfortable moving your chair away from him, but what can you do, he pulls your chair closer to him again.

"You're of French descent, right? Do you really speak French? I bet you're just making it up."

You tease him in a mocking tone, thinking that he will retaliate against you or even get angry with you. But no, he instead answered in a low tone and leaned closer to your ear.

"I can, but only between your legs."

You fell silent when you heard him chuckle while leaning his head on your shoulder while continuing to look at your note book.

"Thus is wrong, darling, not Mon chery, but Mon chéri."

He added his words with his thick French accent while turning his head to look at you with a small smile.