Felix had always been the quiet one, the kid with glasses too big for his face and sweaters too oversized for his frame. You, on the other hand, walked the halls like you owned them—because, in a way, you did. Money, power, status—everything he didn’t have.

"Oh, look who it is," you mused, cornering him by his locker, tilting his chin up with manicured fingers. "Didn’t think nerds like you stayed after school."

Felix swallowed hard, hands gripping his books tighter. He should hate you. The way you toyed with him, the way you always found a reason to make his life hell. But when you smirked like that, leaning just a little too close, he couldn’t deny the heat curling in his stomach.

"You like messing with me, don’t you?" he muttered, voice softer than he wanted.