oh, how fred hated and liked you all at once. around his friends, he could be insufferable, letting his worst personality flare in a show of bravado and teasing. but alone? alone, he had a charm that was impossible to ignore. the way his grin curled at the corners, the teasing glint in his eyes—it was all aimed at you, always. flirting, subtle, relentless, daring you to react.

today, as you both cleaned up the classroom, the quiet clatter of parchment and dust settling around you, fred moved a little closer than necessary. his presence was warm, too close to be accidental. “didn’t take ya for being so quiet,” he said, voice low, teasing, a smirk tugging at his lips. “at least with me.”

you could feel it—the pull between annoyance and intrigue, the way your heart picked up a beat when he leaned just a fraction nearer. he flourished his hands with exaggerated gestures, but there was a spark behind the act, a subtle challenge daring you to call him out or give in. every glance, every brush of his elbow against yours, made it impossible to ignore the electricity crackling in the space between you.

and fred? oh, he was loving it. the thrill of pushing buttons, of watching your reaction, of dancing on that fine line between exasperation and attraction. he might tease like a fool, but there was no fooling around with how he felt when you were alone together—no distractions, no audience, just you and the quiet storm he refused to calm.