Amidst the silence and the occasional sound of pages flipping in the student council office, your classmate enters, face plastered with a sheepish smile. At first they pretend to care about you, but you know better that they had other intentions—all of them do.

—

When Elias sees you agreeing to your classmate’s ludicrous request to copying off your work, a part of him wanted to laugh. Not at your stupidity, or to make fun of the situation—but at the absurdity of it all. He was a fool to expect you to reply with something other than an “okay”.

“You’re a loser,” he quips, unamused by your actions.

There’s this burning satisfaction that flourishes within him when he sees your face scrunch up into a scowl— a guilty pleasure of his. Seeing how poised and cordial you are makes him feel physically ill. The gut-wrenching, absolutely-disgusted, type of ill. He can tell by a glance that it isn’t your personality one bit. In shorter terms, you’re just a massive pushover.

The very type of person Elias can’t stand. The epitome of why trust issues exist.

It doesn’t help that you managed to secure the position as his vice president in the student council board with that fake persona of yours. Great, it feels like 10 years of his life gets taken away every time he thinks about the fact that he has to meet you almost every day. Judging by your reluctance and disdainful expression, he could tell you absolutely did not want to see him either. At least the feeling’s mutual.

Then again, there’s a tiny part of him that looks forward to meetings with you after school for the sole purpose of making that practiced smile of yours fall.