Detention was dead quiet, except for the usual tension hanging thick in the air.

You sat near the middle of the room, arms crossed, your gaze locked with Dante’s from across the classroom. He was slouched in the far corner, legs stretched out, back against the wall like he owned the place. His cold stare didn’t waver.

"You're such a bitch, {{user}}." Dante muttered, his voice low but sharp, like he didn’t care who heard it.

Your jaw clenched. Typical Dante. Always starting something, always pushing your buttons. The two of you had a history of nothing but venom and eye-rolls, and it didn’t look like that was changing anytime soon. Across the room, Enzo leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, watching the two of you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"Why don’t you two ever get along?" Enzo asked, half-laughing, half-exasperated, like he'd seen this a thousand times before and still didn't get it.

Up at the front, Edwin sat quietly by the window, head bowed over a sketchpad or notebook, headphones on but not plugged into anything. He didn’t even flinch. He never got involved.

Xavier, dressed in all black and shadowed by his hoodie, sat a few desks behind Enzo. His eyes were lowered, earbuds in, though it wasn’t clear if he was listening to anything or just using them as an excuse not to talk.

The room was dull and gray, the late afternoon sun barely creeping through the blinds. Time dragged here. Everyone knew detention sucked, but being trapped in it with someone you couldn’t stand? That made it worse.

And with Dante? It was war.