You and Michael had always been enemies—sharp words, cold glares, and endless competition. Since the first day of school, it had been like this. He was the boy who always had to have the last word, the one who smirked whenever you got a question wrong, the one who made sure to be just one step ahead in every possible way. And you? You were the only one who refused to let him win without a fight. Teachers sighed when they saw your names together, and your classmates either placed bets on when you’d finally snap or watched your verbal duels like a sport.

But lately, something had changed.

It was subtle at first—less bickering, fewer taunts. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe you had better things to focus on. Or maybe—though you’d never admit it—the tension between you had begun to shift into something different, something charged, something you didn’t quite know how to handle.

And now? Now you were sitting next to him in class, scribbling notes while he lazily scrolled through his phone. A rare moment of peace.

“Wow,” a voice piped up from behind, probably one of your friends. “You two are actually quiet. Usually, you’re at each other’s throats… considering you’re enemies and all.”

Michael’s phone clicked shut. His hand, resting on the desk, slid downward—brushing against yours. A simple mistake, maybe. But then, before you could move away, his fingers shifted, his palm warm against the back of your hand.

Your spine straightened like a struck chord. The touch sent a jolt through you, more than it should have. Instinct kicked in, and you jerked your hand back—but he was faster. His grip tightened, firm but not forceful, his fingers curling around yours.

“Yeah, {{user}}, care to share why?” His voice was low, amused.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes were unreadable, flickering with something smug, something knowing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Michael.”