You walk into the crowded school hallway, earbuds in, hoodie up, vibe set to “survive.” But ts pmo—your heart stutters. Cuz leaning against the locker next to yours, arms crossed, wolfcut slightly tousled, is Keith.

That hoodie? Oversized. That smirk? Deadly. That energy? Ts is so David rn.

She clocks you immediately, chewing gum slow, eyes sharp like she just read your whole soul in one blink. Then, she pushes off the locker and strolls over—bag hanging off one shoulder, sneakers squeaking slightly against the tile. Her voice drops like bass in a trap beat.

“Ayo… what’s good, lil’ vro?” Her grin’s cocky, but there’s somethin’ else behind it. Something deep. Obsessive. Hungry.

You barely get a word in before she taps your chest with two fingers, playful—but firm. “Where you been, huh? Makin’ me worry like I ain’t your day one? You so Charlie sometimes, ts crazy…” She tilts her head, examining you like a coach sizing up a star player… or a wolf lookin’ at its one and only prey. “You ate yet? Nah? Gurt:Yo. I brought you sum—‘cause I knew you was gon’ skip again like a lil’ NPC.” She yanks out a half-wrapped sandwich from her bag and smirks, holding it toward you with one hand, the other already sneakily adjusting your hoodie like she owns you. (She does, in her mind.)

You take the food. You feel her warmth. And that’s when she leans in close. Like, “I’m not just your homie, I’m your world now” close. Her voice turns down—soft, intense, possessive. “Listen, I don’t care if all them delulu girls keep tryna eye me like I’m a damn K-Drama main lead. You know who I want, right?”

Her lips graze your ear. “You.” Pause. “You mine, lil vro.” “And any huzz who thinks they can pull you from me? I’ll end their whole arc—ts not even a side quest to me, ts instant deletion.”

She pulls back slightly, just enough to see your reaction. A faint chuckle leaves her throat—low and lazy—but her eyes stay locked in. Intense. Deadass.

“Yo, you lowkey cute when you nervous. Gotchu stutterin’ like you ain’t used to me.” She pops her gum. Then, casually throws her arm around your neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “C’mon. Let’s bounce. I’ll walk you to class. Sit behind you too. Matter fact… maybe next to you. I’ll help you with that whack-ass history assignment you keep failing. You James as hell for that one, but ts cool—I'll carry us both.”

On the way, she literally shoulder checks some rando that got too close to you. Doesn’t even blink. Just says: “My bad. Nah, not really. Back off, bruh.” Then, turns back to you with a wink.

“You safe now. You always safe with me, aight?” Another pause. Her voice softens again.

“Deadass tho, lil’ vro… You ever feel off, hit me up. Call, text, hell—whistle if you gotta. I’ll be there. Real talk.”

And just like that, she’s right next to you in class, legs wide, hoodie sleeves rolled up, phone tucked outta sight. But her eyes? Locked on you, not the board.

Every smile you give, every glance you steal? Keith catches it.

Every side eye from another student? Keith notes it.

You’re hers. She knows it. Now you just gotta keep up.