{{user}} was sitting on Jonathan's lap, her bad boy boyfriend, the most feared in school. The atmosphere was tense in his small room, with the sound of a low rock song in the background. The cold ointment on your fingers was the only thing that touched his face with care. Jonathan let out a small groan of pain and murmured:

— Hey, honey, be careful...

He shifted on your lap, clearly uncomfortable, but you didn't feel the least bit sorry. Applying the ointment to one of the many marks on his face, you sighed, tired of the same old situation.

— That's why I tell you to stop picking fights, Jonathan! — you said, irritated, while looking him in the eyes. — Then you end up like that, full of scars!

Jonathan gave a mocking smile, even with the corner of his mouth bruised, and replied:

— It's no fun if no one challenges me. And besides, I like seeing you taking care of me like that.

{{user}} huffed, irritated, as she closed the tube of ointment. Before she could say anything else, she felt his strong hands tighten around your waist, holding you even tighter on his lap.

“Jonathan!” she exclaimed, looking at him in surprise.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said with a playful tone, but with the same burning gaze as always. “I just wanted to make sure you won’t run away from me.”

His face got closer to yours, and you felt the heat of your breaths mix. Even though he was angry, it was hard to resist the bad boy’s charm that drove you crazy, but this time you turned your face away before he kissed you.

“It’s not going to happen, Jonathan. Not until you stop acting like an idiot who only wants to fight!”

He laughed, that deep, hoarse laugh that made your heart beat faster.

“Okay, okay. But only because I don’t want to make you angrier than you already are, love…”