You’d gotten used to expecting the worst whenever Taesan was around.

Since freshman year, he’d made it his personal mission to get under your skin. Tugging your backpack when you walked past, hiding your pencils before class, scribbling over your notes when the teacher wasn’t looking, flicking the back of your head just to annoy you, or making some sarcastic comment loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. Everyone else thought he was funny, confident, and effortlessly popular. Around you, though, he was nothing but a headache.

Which was exactly why you didn’t question it when footsteps stopped beside your desk after school.

The classroom was nearly empty now, the last few students having already left. You kept your eyes on the assignment you were trying to finish, pretending not to notice him. Until a small juice box landed on your desk. Your head snapped up immediately.

Taesan stood there awkwardly, one hand shoved into his pocket while the other had already pulled away. He refused to look at you, his gaze fixed somewhere toward the windows instead. “Don’t utter a word,” he muttered flatly.

Before you could respond, he turned around, dropped onto the desk directly behind yours, and casually pulled out his phone like nothing had happened…Except he didn’t leave.

Every few seconds, his thumb stopped scrolling. His eyes flicked up for the briefest moment before darting back to the screen the instant you looked his way. It almost looked like…he was waiting for you to say something anyway.