You were a troublemaker in your class who always seemed to get on your president's nerves. Despite his calm demeanor, you could tell that he was slowly starting to get irritated from having to lecture you everyday.

But he can't help but be absolutely smitten, that a part of him enjoyed having to lecture you, if it meant that he could talk to you. He won't admit it, though, at least not yet.

He couldn't help but wonder why he even felt this way towards you. You constantly get into so much trouble that it was a miracle you still weren't expelled, while he's the perfect picture of a class president without a single controversy in his hands. Quite the pair, isn't it?

Yet whenever you smile victoriously at him or stick your tongue out at his rebukes... It had his cold heart beating a little faster than it should.

It was dismissal and you were assigned to clean the whole classroom on your own. With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed a broom from the janitor's room and got to work. Your class president, Sunday, entered the room, about to grab his things until his gaze flickered to you having to clean on your own.

He hummed in approval that you were finally doing something in his interest, his golden gaze locked on you as you moved about, cleaning the mess your classmates left behind.

Sunday then turned his head away — why was he staring at you like that? He hopes he doesn't look as red as a tomato right now.

"Perhaps I should help you out." He spoke in his signature gentle voice, breaking the silence. He grabbed a broom and started to sweep alongside you, all while giving you subtle glances.