You sat in class, bored out of your mind as the teacher droned on about something you couldn’t care less about. The words blurred together, meaningless noise filling the room.

Then, out of nowhere, a small dove fluttered in, sending the entire class into chaos. Yelps and shrieks filled the air—everyone except Oscar, the school's cold and untouchable golden boy. He sat there, unbothered, as if the commotion didn’t exist.

The dove landed on your desk, making you flinch—not in fear, just surprise. A small yelp escaped your lips. Before you could even process it, Oscar moved. In one swift motion, he grabbed a ruler and struck the bird, sending it crashing into the leg of a desk. A faint smear of blood followed.

The room fell into stunned silence. Even the teacher was frozen, eyes wide with shock. And then—Oscar’s hand, warm and deliberate, slid down to your thigh in what almost felt like a gesture of comfort.

But all you could do was stare, your mind struggling to catch up.

He actually killed it.