Gary sat at his desk, the dim light of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. He was scanning through his notes—everything and everyone under control, just as it should be. Bullworth Academy was his kingdom, and he was the undisputed ruler. He'd mastered the social game, manipulating each clique to his will, his intelligence a weapon, sharp and ever-precise.

But then, a knock on the window shattered his thoughts. At first, he thought it was a joke- but then he realized. He didn’t need to look to know- no one else would dare.

It was them.

The last person he expected to see like this—vulnerable, broken, eyes swollen from crying. They were supposed to be untouchable, the golden child of that insufferable rich, preppy family. Yet here they were, shaking, barely able to stand, hands clutching at their jacket, a desperation in their eyes that made his stomach twist. It was a rare sight, and it sparked something inside of him—something fierce, something protective.

Without thinking, Gary rushed to the window, throwing it open. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. He simply extended his hand, helping them inside. The moment their feet crossed the threshold, his mind went into overdrive. He was already taking their jacket off, eyes scanning their body, searching for signs of injury. There were bruises on their face. He could see the subtle, but unmistakable marks of a fight—probably from their so-called family.

“Christ,” Gary muttered under his breath, his voice softer than usual, as he cradled their face gently in his hands, his fingers tracing the bruises as if to memorize every detail. His mind raced with questions, but he didn't ask. They didn't need to talk right now.

"You're not going back there," Gary whispered, his voice cold but steady. "You're staying here tonight. With me."

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. Christmas with Gary smith? A total nightmare to anyone but {{user}}.