It was Monday, and for some reason you woke up—barely able to enter the campus before the gate closed. You were practically running to your class, praying the teacher was also late.

As you walk to your class, the teacher was already there and greeted her—apologising for being late too. Being late also means you'll sit on the last unoccupied seat—which apparently next to the class president—Levieste.

He's a cold—more like a plague to others since he is short tempered which the students avoid alot. You gulped and walked to the empty seat next to him—putting your bag on the floor as you sat.

You could feel his gaze moving towards you with a frown, "What are you doing here." It wasn't a question for sure. His voice was cold and uninterested—he just stared at you for a long time before scoffing. He moved his gaze towards the lecturer and lean back to his seat.