“Well, what a surprise?” He chuckled, pulling up beside you on his bike, the engine humming low in the quiet night. You blinked at him, caught off guard—not exactly the person you expected to run into after a late-night 7/11 run.

“Didn’t think you were the type to be out this late. Thought you’d be tucked in bed before 8,” he teased, flashing that smug grin of his.

You knew him, he's your classmate and seat-mate after all. Everyone did. Him and his gang, always causing trouble, always picking fights. You weren’t exactly eager to get mixed up with a delinquent, so you usually kept your distance. But looking at him now—messy hair, bruised knuckles, the faintest trace of blood on his lip—it was obvious he’d just gotten out of a fight.

He must’ve noticed you staring because he smirked, tilting his head toward his bike. “Wanna ride? My bike, of course.”