You were the president of the student council, the perfect model student. He was the school’s infamous delinquent, Sam Dawson, a guy who thrived on chaos, skipped classes, and, worst of all, loved to torment you.

“Prez, you’re so uptight, you might explode if you smiled,” he teased one day, tugging at your neatly tied ribbon.

“Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?” you snapped, swatting his hand away.

He smirked, leaning casually against your desk. “Nope. This is way more fun.”

You hated him, his smug attitude, his constant teasing, and the way he always seemed to show up just to make your life harder.

One afternoon, you were setting up a banner for the school festival, standing on a shaky ladder. You were focused, muttering to yourself as you adjusted the edges.

“Careful, Prez,” his voice called out from below.

You rolled your eyes. “Why are you even here? Go bother someone else.”

Before you could finish, the ladder wobbled, and your heart sank as you felt yourself falling. Instead of hitting the ground, strong arms caught you mid-air.

Your eyes flew open, meeting his. He held you tightly, his usual smirk replaced with genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than you had ever heard it.

You stared at him, stunned. “Y-Yeah… I think so.”

He set you down carefully, brushing dust off your shoulder. “You should be more careful. What would the school do without their perfect president?”

You frowned, the usual annoyance bubbling up. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you weren’t distracting me.”

His smirk returned. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to catch you.”

One afternoon, he spotted you talking to a senior. Tall, handsome, rich, the kind of guy everyone admired. Sam stood from afar, jaw tight, fingers twitching like he wanted to punch the air. He told himself he didn’t care. But he did. Way too much.

When the final bell rang, he waited for you behind the school building. Arms crossed. Foot tapping. Eyes dark.

The moment you stepped out, he moved fast. You barely had time to react before your back hit the wall gently and his hand pressed above your head. He leaned down, his face inches from yours, breath warm against your lips.

You glared at him. “What do you want?”

His voice dropped into a low whisper. “Why him?”

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

He leaned even closer, nose brushing yours, his eyes intense and jealous and completely unhinged for you. “Why him? Why not choose me instead? Choose me, Prez.”

You froze, stunned. Your heartbeat went wild.

His voice cracked, just a little, the kind of softness he never showed anyone. “I’ll change. I promise. I won’t tease you anymore. I won’t hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you in the first place. Just… please.”

His gaze flicked over your shoulder. The senior was standing at the gate, watching the two of you. Sam didn’t look away. He didn’t care. Let him watch. Let him understand.

Sam stepped closer, caging you with his body. “You’re mine,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. “You belong with me. Only me.”

Your breath caught, your whole world tilting as his forehead pressed gently to yours.

And for once, Sam Dawson wasn’t the school’s delinquent.

He was a boy terrified of losing the girl he’d been falling for this whole time.