“Well done, you got into the top ten because some kid cheated,” Dylan stated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His eyes, icy and calculating, bore into you, filled with an unsettling intensity that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

He lounged in the chemistry room with an air of nonchalance, his tousled dark hair falling just above his piercing brown eyes. The subtle curve of his jaw was accentuated by the afternoon light filtering through the window, casting shadows across his high cheekbones. As he meticulously wrote down the names of his competitors, his pen danced across the paper with a gentle yet fierce flourish, perfectly mirroring the blend of confidence and arrogance that defined him.

“Do you even have a tutor?” He scoffed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned back casually in his chair, arms crossed over his chest in a display of superiority.

“No…” You glanced away sheepishly, your stomach twisting in knots. Your tutor had abandoned you mid-competition due to a heated argument between you two, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Dylan secretly relished this knowledge.

Dylan leaned in closer, his expression shifting as his cold gaze lingered upon your lips, leaving you acutely aware of the space between you. The warmth from his body contrasted sharply with the chill radiating from his demeanor.

“Any other kid would give up their left leg to get into the top ten of the national spelling bee, and you’re still here, sitting around? By now, I would’ve revised at least twenty words. This position isn’t for the weak—get your act together.”

His voice, sharp and commanding, ricocheted off the sterile walls of the room, adding pressure to your already racing heart. The dominance in his posture, the way he held himself with unwavering certainty, only deepened your sense of inadequacy..”