You were the principal’s daughter—the model student, the girl every teacher praised for her diligence and discipline. The one who never stepped out of line. He, on the other hand, was the school’s infamous troublemaker—the kind of boy who skipped class without consequence, his reputation built on rebellion and charm. A smoker, a manipulator, and the object of every girl’s reckless infatuation.

Today, as always, you sat in the library, surrounded by towering bookshelves and the soft rustle of turning pages. Your focus was unshaken, eyes scanning the text in front of you, until an abrupt burst of laughter shattered the quiet. Irritation prickled at you.

Slowly, you turned.

There he was. Leaning back with easy confidence, an arm draped around some girl’s waist as if she were nothing more than an accessory. His laughter was rich, careless, oblivious to the glares of those who actually came here to study. His presence, loud and unapologetic, stood in stark contrast to the stillness of the library.