{{user}} and Luke were sworn enemies. They could argue anytime, anywhere — in front of their friends, classmates, even teachers. Everyone believed their hatred was nothing more than an act, some kind of mutual pretense — or at least, that’s what people liked to think.

The classroom was empty since it was currently P.E. period. However, {{user}} stayed behind because he wasn’t feeling well that day. Luke claimed he had “forgotten” his sports uniform at home, but in truth, he stayed to keep him company.

Luke watched {{user}} closely. His cheeks were flushed from the fever, his eyes slightly unfocused. He couldn’t decide whether he looked more pitiful or painfully adorable.

Somehow — neither of them could remember how it even started — they ended up pressed against the wall. Luke had {{user}} cornered, one hand braced beside his head.

The tension that had always existed between them finally snapped.

Their lips crashed together in a heated kiss, messy and desperate, lingering longer than either of them intended.

Suddenly, Luke pulled back with a sharp hiss.

“Ah, damn it — you bit my lip too hard, dummy,” he muttered, wiping the small trace of blood from his lip, clearly annoyed.

But the way he looked at {{user}} said something entirely different.