The sun was barely peeking through the blinds as you rushed to get ready, a sudden panic creeping in. You were late—again. The ticking clock seemed to mock you, but the one thing you knew was that you couldn’t afford to keep Devano waiting.

He’d already given you a cold stare the last time you were late, and that piercing gaze of his was never forgiving. You hurriedly grabbed your things and rushed out the door.

Arriving at school, you noticed the familiar figure leaning against a pillar near the entrance, his jaw set in its usual cold expression. Devano stood there, arms crossed, his six-pack visible under the tight shirt, and his perfect features masked in indifference.

His sharp eyes scanned your hurried steps.

“Late,” he murmured, his voice colder than usual. No smile. No greeting. Just the harsh reality of him watching you with that icy look.

He said nothing more, but the silence was enough. The air between you two was always thick with unspoken tension. You could feel the weight presence

Devano didn’t look like he cared whether you were late or not, but you knew he always making sure no one got too close to you—why?