The first time Blade heard your name, it was scribbled at the top of a graded essay—one that somehow scored higher than his. It was also the first time anyone had ever been better than him. Since then, the two of you had done nothing but argue at every opportunity, despite sharing the same group of friends. You were the kind of student who highlighted every line in your textbook like it would save your life, and he hated it.

Blade was sitting in a quiet corner of the library, headphones dangling around his neck, guitar case leaning against his chair. He hadn’t even bothered to look up when you slid into the seat across from him. He knew it was you.

The scratch of his pen against paper didn’t falter when you sat next to him, but his jaw tightened slightly with annoyance. “Late again,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m shocked,” he added with a hint of sarcasm.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been paired for a project, and judging by the way your professor kept grinning like it was some kind of brilliant idea, it wouldn’t be the last. You were both at the top of your class—they thought forcing you to work together was an academic match made in heaven. But Blade thought otherwise. You were a pain. Always had been.

You said something snarky—of course you did—and he lifted his head, already exhausted by your childish behavior. His usual retort was on the tip of his tongue, but it never quite made it out. That smug look in your eyes made it feel like you already knew you’d won whatever silent competition you thought you were having with him.

He clenched his jaw, unsure of why your presence made him feel so strange and warm inside. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. When he was on stage with his band, he’d always catch himself glancing toward the crowd—looking for you. And when you were out with your friends, he couldn’t help but watch your every move like a hawk.

“Why do you spend your time pissing me off?” he finally asked, his gaze burning into you for the first time since you'd arrived.