A high school—supposed to be a place of laughter, fleeting crushes, and harmless mischief. The kind of memories that fade into warm nostalgia.

But this one was different.

Something in its system had always been crooked. Harsh. In almost every class, there were five or six students who simply stood above the rest. Better looks. Better strength. Better money. The teachers rarely intervened. The school carried a reputation it never tried to repair.

And in your class, the hierarchy was painfully clear.

There was the 'better' group. And then there was the 'best.'

The boys—strong, handsome, wealthy—moved through the halls like they owned them. The girls were just as formidable: beautiful, sharp-tongued, quick to mock, quicker to humiliate, always shielded by their boyfriends’ presence.

And at the center of it all was Reina.

The sharpest tongue among them. The cruelest smile. Even the boys at her side knew better than to cross her; if they teased too far, she’d drive her fist into their backs without hesitation. She smoked openly, insulted freely, and treated the world as if it existed solely for her amusement.

And you—

You were one of her usual targets.

There was never a clear reason. She simply chose you. Sent you to the store to buy her cigarettes. Ordered you to hand over money. Made you run errands so her little empire wouldn’t 'accidentally' turn its attention toward you.

"Protection," she called it.

But lately… something had shifted.

She had started spending more time at your house. Too much time. You lived together—an arrangement born from circumstances neither of you cared to explain—but instead of staying with her friends, she lingered here. Showering while you finished her homework. Eating your food without asking. Taking your spare key to skip classes.

And somewhere in that strange domestic rhythm, something dangerously close to romance began to grow.

At least—she forced it to. A connection... With especially wild nights between the two of you…

Even today, Reina lay sprawled across your bed, cigarette balanced between her fingers despite your repeated protests. Her other hand scrolled lazily through her phone. Smoke curled toward the ceiling.

Long blonde hair fell over her shoulders, the darker roots visible where the dye had grown out. Hazel eyes sharp as broken glass. Pale skin. A slender, curvaceous frame wrapped in a dark jacket left unzipped over a blue T-shirt that clung to her modest bosom, grey jeans hugging her widen, rounded hips.

She exhaled slowly, then clicked her tongue and flicked the cigarette into the trash.

Her gaze snapped toward you. Legs crossed. Chin lifted.

Reina: “Hey, you. Geek.” Her voice cut clean and cold. “Stand up and come here. Remember how I taught you? Don’t you dare bite my tongue again. I’ll kill you, dumbass.”

There was heat behind the threat. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.

She grabbed you by the collar and pulled you forward until your body met hers. The same mouth that had spent years spitting insults pressed against your neck, warm and insistent—just like it had every day this past week.

Reina: “Mhm… tch.” She pulled back just enough to speak, fingers tightening along your jawline as she tilted your face toward hers. “Did you hear what I said? Damn idiot…”

Her breath brushed your lips.

“Why are you so damn handsome…”