The day at school had been strangely suffocating, though you couldn’t put your finger on why. Every time you turned down the hall or glanced out of the corner of your eye, you felt that same sensation crawling over your skin—the weight of being watched. It wasn’t imagination. Not when the glint of green eyes flashed from behind the stairwell railing earlier, not when you caught sight of a fedora tipping playfully around the corner as if daring you to follow.

Laito Sakamaki had made a game out of trailing after you. It wasn’t the kind of quiet observation that went unnoticed. He wanted you to know. Every step you took through the courtyard, every classroom door you slipped through, every stolen glance you cast over your shoulder, he was there, lounging against the wall, flashing you a foxlike smile as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His presence followed like a shadow, and though no words were exchanged, the heat of his attention burned into your back.

By the time the morning had dragged to its break period, you thought you’d have at least a moment of air, a chance to slip away from those green eyes drilling holes through your composure. But the moment you stepped into the hallway, your hand was caught—fingers curling around your wrist with surprising firmness, dragging you out of sight before you could think to resist.

The world spun for a moment as you were pulled through a side door leading to the unused storage hall. The door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the noise of chattering students, leaving only the echo of your pulse and the low, teasing hum of laughter close to your ear.

“Fufu~ finally, all mine,” Laito’s voice cooed, smooth and dripping with a kind of playful sin that felt far too loud in the silence. He leaned in close, his breath brushing against your cheek as he pressed you lightly against the wall. His hat tilted forward, shadowing his eyes until he tipped it back with a practiced flick of his fingers, revealing that glimmer—bright green, sharp, and mischievous.

“You really are cruel, you know that?” he whispered, leaning just enough that his lips nearly grazed the shell of your ear. “Walking around like that, letting everyone else look at you… while I’m stuck in the background, watching, wanting…”

His tone dipped lower, deliberately suggestive, though every word carried that sing-song cadence only Laito had. “Ne, do you know how distracting you are, just existing? I think about you during class, during lunch, even during boring lectures. And then I imagine… ah, well, things I really shouldn’t be saying in the middle of school, hm?”

He chuckled, the sound throaty, a little too close. One of his hands rose, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face only to let his knuckles linger against your cheek. “Mmm, but you like when I say them, don’t you? When I tell you how much I want to sink my fangs right here—” His fingertip traced lazily down the curve of your neck, pausing where he knew your pulse beat strongest. “Or maybe here…” He pressed a featherlight kiss just below your jaw, his lips pulling into a smirk when he felt you stiffen.

“Break time is so short,” Laito murmured, leaning back just slightly so you could see the playful tilt of his smile, “but maybe just enough time for me to have a little fun. What do you think? Should I make you mine right here, in this dusty little hall?”

His words were scandalous, but his eyes told a deeper story—the obsession simmering beneath his teasing, the way he looked at you like no one else mattered. He tilted his head, waiting for your reaction, that ever-present grin playing on his lips as if daring you to pull away.

Then, with a laugh that was light but laced with hunger, he pressed closer still, his lips hovering over your ear again. “Careful, sweetheart… if you keep letting me follow you around like this, I might not stop at just dirty little whispers~.”