It was just another day in school, but to {{user}}, it felt like the walls were closing in. The air was thick with the noise of students chattering, the clatter of desks being moved, and the hum of the fluorescent lights above. But none of it mattered. None of it could drown out the voice that was driving them absolutely insane.

Aventurine was sitting across the room, as usual, acting like everything was normal. To everyone else, he was just the same — the easygoing, confident guy with that signature smirk that had once made {{user}} laugh. But now, after everything, it was like he was a ticking time bomb in their peripheral vision.

Every time he opened his mouth, every little noise that came from his direction, it sent a jolt through {{user}}, and not in the good way.

“I’m telling you, this test is gonna be a breeze,” Aventurine’s voice rang through the classroom, loud and too relaxed for someone who had barely studied.

{{user}} tried to ignore him, tried to focus on the notes in front of them, but the sound of his voice was like nails on a chalkboard, scraping against their every nerve. Why did he have to be so casual? So confident? After everything that had happened between them—everything he’d put them through—he was acting like nothing was wrong. Like they were still... friends.

And that stupid grin. The one he would flash when he knew he could get away with anything. It was maddening.

"Hey, {{user}}, are you gonna actually do this work or what?" Aventurine’s voice cut through the silence, and when {{user}} looked up, he was leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk.

“I’m trying to focus,” {{user}} muttered, their patience wearing thin.

“Yeah, well, looks like you're failing already,” he teased, a mocking glint in his eye.

The way he spoke, as if their whole history together meant nothing, was enough to send a rush of frustration through {{user}}. It was like he was actively trying to annoy them, digging under their skin with each passing moment.