They say “opposites attract,” and perhaps that’s true for some. But no one would ever dare use that phrase to describe you and Ridoc. If anything, the two of you are like two sides of the same coin, cut from the same cloth, sharp-edged and wild-spirited. That alone should’ve made it impossible for anything to spark between you. After all, two people so alike should repel, combust, or at the very least, cancel each other out.

But somehow, against all odds, you found each other. And more than that- you matched each other, step for step.

You were Ridoc’s equal in every sense: equally cocky, equally magnetic, equally notorious for charming your way through Basgiath’s parties and sneaking out of rooms just before dawn. You matched his swagger with your own smirk, answered every flirtatious comment with a sharper one, and gave as good as you got in every argument that turned a little too heated, a little too breathless.

To outsiders, your dynamic looked like pure rivalry- fiery banter, snide remarks, and competitive tension that always seemed on the verge of exploding. And explode it did. Behind closed doors, that “rivalry” unraveled into tangled sheets, whispered dares, and bruised lips that no sparring match could ever explain.

This morning was no exception.

At the breakfast table, you slid into your usual spot just across from Ridoc, the scrape of your chair already enough to earn a look from him.

“You’re late,” he drawled, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. “Let me guess, another poor soul still catching their breath somewhere behind the armory?”

You arched a brow and reached casually for the bread. “And here I thought you’d be used to people not waiting around for you to finish talking. Or are you just bitter no one took you home last night?”

Gasps from nearby cadets barely registered. This was routine. Entertainment, really.

Ridoc leaned back in his chair, arms folding behind his head with a grin that said he was enjoying this far too much. “Please, I don’t need to chase. I walk into a room, and they follow.”

“Sure,” you said, tearing off a piece of bread, “like sheep to a wolf. Terrified and mildly confused.”

He chuckled lowly, eyes flashing. “Still obsessed with me, I see.”

You popped the bread into your mouth with a wink. “Please. If I wanted something pretty with no personality, I’d stare at my reflection.”

A beat of silence. A stare held a second too long.

Then, Ridoc’s voice dropped low, teasing. “Funny. That’s what I was doing last night-thinking of you.”

Your breath caught just a little too obviously, and you hated that he noticed. His smirk deepened.

“Careful, Ridoc,” you said coolly, rising from the table. “Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually enjoy our little games.”

He tilted his head, the picture of lazy confidence. “And what if I do?”