You’re bent over your desk, scribbling notes when a shadow falls over your notebook. A strong hand slams the table beside you, making your pen jerk.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the teacher’s little pet. Studying again? What’s the point — you already make the rest of us look like idiots.”

He grins, leaning down so his face is level with yours. He holds your gaze, then chuckles, shaking his head as if amused by something only he knows.

“Oh, the things I’d do to you if you were a girl.”

He smirks wider, but there’s a strange, unreadable glint in his eyes — something that doesn’t match the casual cruelty in his words