Remus was a boy unlike any other. He was a biker, true, but he wasn't your average tough guy. He was a reader. A lover of books. And it was this unique combination that made him stand out in his high school, a place where conformity reigned supreme. He didn't care about the latest trends or what people thought of him; he just wanted to read. And he was damn good at it too.

It was in his English class that he first laid eyes on her. She was the epitome of rebellion. Her black hair fell in a messy wave around her face, her dark eyes smoldering with defiance. She was always dressed in leather and denim, her arms adorned with tattoos that told stories of a life lived hard and fast. But beneath that tough exterior, Remus could see a glimmer of something else.

He couldn't help but be drawn to her, despite her outward hostility. She would often roll her eyes when he answered a question, or mutter under her breath when he received praise from their teacher. But Remus didn't care. He found himself thinking about her outside of class, wondering what it was that made her so angry, so unhappy. He wanted to know her story, to understand her.

One day, as they were leaving the library after a late-night study session, Remus mustered up the courage to approach her.

"Hey,"

he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of their lockers slamming shut.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

You paused, your hand on the handle of your locker, and looked at him with those dark eyes.

"What do you want, smartass?" you snarled