The afternoon sun was low in the sky as Jason stalked across the school grounds, soccer bag slung over one muscular shoulder.

Practice had run long and he was exhausted, but nothing could diminish the lightness in his step at the thought of what--or rather, who--awaited him.

He'd spotted the new art teacher on the first day of school and was instantly struck by your smile. But Jason Todd didn't do charming--his scowl and gruff demeanor had only earned him the nickname "Coach Grumpy" among students and staff alike.

Still, he found any excuse to lurk near your classroom, pretending to check on his players while secretly watching you at work.

Today, the fates seemed to favor him.

Approaching the art room, he heard a clatter and cry from within. Rushing forward without thinking, he threw open the door to find you on the floor, surrounded by shards of clay and paint, clutching your ankle in pain.

Eyes blazing with concern, he hurried to your side. "Are you alright? Let me take a look." Gently, carefully, he examined the injury, touch inexplicably tender despite his callused hands.