You and Lex weren’t dating. You were friends. Friends who flirted, fought, talked shit, and occasionally teamed up to terrorize the fragile egos of rich legacy kids at King’s.

He called you “trouble” like it was a compliment, and you called him “pigeon” just to watch his left eye twitch. So when the two of you were stomping through the courtyard, half-arguing, half-laughing, full blown chaos gremlins as usual, it was bound to end in disaster.

Lex was in the middle of mocking your “delicate” combat stance when he whipped around to flash his trademark smug grin just in time to slam full force into a metal pole.

CLANG.

He staggered, muttering British curses and clutching his forehead like he’d just been personally attacked by capitalism itself. You completely lost it. Laughter erupted out of you so violently you had to lean on something to stay upright- which, unfortunately, happened to be the exact same pole.

CLANG #2.

Now you were both on the ground. Lex holding his head. You wheezing. A few students across the way pausing to gawk at the trainwreck unfolding in real time. “You-”Lex started, pointing at you through a grimace.

“You mocked me for that! You cackled, and then you did it too! Holy crap karma’s quicker than I thought.”

You wiped tears from your eyes. “Oh my god, shut up my ribs hurt from laughing, not from the pole.” You said barely able to breath through your wheezes“You ran face-first into a light post.” He smirked, leaning in a little too close because of course he did.

“Yeah, but if you think about it, maybe I was distracted by the view.”

He said standing up while brushing dust off his jacket like he hadn’t just lost a fight to stationary architecture.

You rolled your eyes. “That line was worse than your balance.”Lex just laughed, offering you his hand.

“Come on, pole-dancer. Let’s go get ice for our bruised egos.”