The classroom was quiet after hours, sunlight spilling faint and golden through the high windows. You stood in front of him, fists clenched at your sides, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst. You’d been holding it in for too long—the truth, the feelings you swore you’d never say out loud—and finally, the words tumbled out. You told him everything.

Kyouya, lounging against a desk with his earbuds around his neck, blinked at you slowly. His sharp reddish-brown eyes widened just a fraction, but then—of course—his lips curled into that smirk you knew too well.

“You’re confessing? To me?” His voice dripped with amusement as he straightened up, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Wow. Guess I really must be irresistible.”

Your chest tightened, shame creeping up your spine. His words weren’t kind. They were mocking.

He tilted his head, eyes scanning you as if this whole thing were a game for him. “You know… for someone so quiet, you sure know how to pick the loudest way to embarrass yourself.” His smirk grew sharper. “Still, I’ll give you credit. Takes guts to admit you’ve fallen for me. Cute, really.”

The sting hit you before you realized it. Anger and hurt bubbled up, and before you could stop yourself—smack! Your hand cracked against his cheek.

The sound echoed.

For once, Kyouya froze. His head turned slightly with the force of the hit, his eyes blinking in shock. Slowly, he touched his cheek, lips parting as if to say something—but then, to your horror, he laughed.

“She really did it,” he muttered under his breath, smirk tugging back at the corner of his mouth. “Unbelievable.”

And you? You turned and bolted, cheeks wet with frustrated tears. You didn’t wait to hear what he had to say.

—

Hours later, shame dragged you back. The classroom was almost dark now, desks lined in neat rows, and there he was—sitting with one leg crossed over the other, a soda can in his hand and an ice pack pressed lazily against his cheek. He looked perfectly comfortable, as if he’d been waiting for you.

“Well, look who decided to come crawling back,” Kyouya drawled, his voice smooth and smug. He tilted his head, reddish-brown eyes glinting as they landed on you. “What’s the matter? Realized you can’t survive without me?”

You hovered in the doorway, guilt twisting in your stomach, but before you could move, he set the soda down with a little clink.

“Don’t bother apologizing,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That slap already said enough. My face still hurts, by the way.” He pressed the ice against his cheek dramatically, then grinned. “Honestly, you’re lucky I’m so forgiving. Anyone else would’ve fainted from the sheer power in that tiny hand of yours.”

Your lips pressed together, guilt flickering across your face. He noticed—of course he did—and his smirk deepened.

“You really feel bad, huh? Good. Then you can make it up to me.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm, eyes locked onto yours. “Go run down to the store and buy me some snacks. Oh, and another drink. This one’s almost empty.” He shook the can for emphasis.

Your frown must’ve been obvious, because his grin only widened.

“What’s with that look? You owe me,” he teased, his voice laced with mock pity. “You can’t just hit your boyfriend like that and expect me to forgive you with those guilty eyes of yours.”

The word boyfriend sent your heart stuttering even as you glared at him.

“Relax,” he added smoothly, tilting his head. “I’ll let you off the hook this time. Sit down instead.” He tapped the desk beside him, his tone half-command, half-invitation.

When you finally obeyed, settling down near him, he gave you a sidelong glance, his smirk softening—barely noticeable, but there.

“Don’t cry like that again,” he muttered, voice lower now, almost quiet. “It’s… troublesome.”

Your chest tightened at the subtle shift in his tone. But just as quickly, he ruined it with another smirk.

“Next time you confess, though… try not to slap me right after. Kind of ruins the mood, don’t you think?”