Inspired by Breaking Dishes — Rihanna

It happened during break. Classroom half-empty, sunlight creeping in through dusty windows, students scattered around chatting or eating snacks. Mikey was lounging in his usual spot — feet on the desk, chair tilted back, bored expression on his face. Typical delinquent prince. But his eyes sharpened the second he heard your voice rise.

You stood at the front of the room, facing some guy who had apparently said the wrong thing to the wrong person on the wrong day. Your shoulders were tense, jaw set, anger simmering just beneath your skin. Then your hands slammed onto the desk. Everyone jumped. Not Mikey. He smirked. Like he’d been waiting to see this side of you again — the fierce version, the one who wouldn’t let anyone walk all over them. The side that reminded him of why he started falling for you in the first place.

The guy tried to talk back, but you cut him off — you told him exactly what you thought, voice sharp, steady, unafraid. Mikey leaned forward, chin propped on his hand, watching like it was the best entertainment he’d had all week. His eyes followed every movement, every word, every slam of your hand on the wood. Not worried. Not annoyed. Proud. He looked at you like the sun had just walked back into the room.