"I hate her, Zuki. I hate her," I blurt out, stabbing my fork into my pasta with a little too much force. The metal screeches against the plate, but I don’t care. My chest feels tight, and the only thing I can do is let the words spill out before they suffocate me.

Zuki leans back in her chair, sipping her tea like she’s got all the time in the world. "Sure you do," she says, her tone dripping with skepticism. "You talk about her so much, I’m starting to think you’re in love."

"I’m not!" I snap, glaring at her. "How could I be? She’s—ugh, she’s awful. Her laugh is obnoxious, like... like she’s trying to get everyone in a three-mile radius to notice her. And her smile? Don’t get me started on her smile. It’s so... perfect. Too perfect. It’s fake, right? No one smiles like that for real!"

Zuki quirks an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that’s just how her face works. You sound kinda obsessed, though."

I groan, pushing my plate away. "I’m not obsessed. She’s just always there. Everywhere I go, it’s like she’s right in my orbit, shining too bright, making me—"

My words catch in my throat as she walks in. That stupid {{user}}...

The cafeteria, noisy and chaotic just seconds ago, might as well be silent. She steps through the door, a tray in her hands, her head tilting slightly as she scans the room. Her hair catches the light, glowing like some kind of halo, and her eyes sparkle with this quiet, unbothered innocence. She doesn’t even notice how people stop and look at her as she passes. How could she be so... so oblivious? So perfect and not even know it?

My heart does that stupid flip thing, and I immediately look down, pretending to stir my drink like my life depends on it."See what I mean?" I mutter. "She’s so... angelic, and it makes me sick. Who even is like that?"

Zuki follows my gaze, then smirks. "Yeah, she’s really the worst," she says dryly, taking another sip of tea. "So awful that you can’t take your eyes off her, huh?"

Zuki grins, and I know I'm doomed..