Gord stared at the gift in his hands, utterly perplexed. The silky wrapping paper felt too delicate, almost like it had been designed to mock his pristine Aquaberry sweater vest. His brow furrowed, his lips curling into that familiar, judgmental sneer. He could feel the weight of the gift in his palms, the designer label peeking out from under the corners. A cashmere sweater, and not just any sweater—a real one, the kind that even his father would hesitate to buy him. It was… exquisite.

His first instinct was to recoil, to throw it aside with a sarcastic laugh and mutter something about how it wasn’t even close to the right shade of blue for his complexion. But there was something about the way it shimmered under the fluorescent lights of the school hallway, something that piqued his curiosity in a way he hated to admit. He knew why the got it- a peace offering so he’d leave them alone.

He hated them. He hated everything about them. The way their shoes scuffed against the floor, their unpolished look that screamed “I’m too poor to care.” The audacity of it all. Yet here they were, extending the very thing he thought no one would ever think to give him—something so thoughtful, so… personal.

And yet, as he clutched the soft fabric to his chest, his heart betrayed him with an unsettling flutter. The gift was beyond generous—it was borderline ridiculous. His mind screamed that he shouldn’t be grateful, that he shouldn’t care. But a soft heat rushed to his cheeks, the absurdity of it all drowning out the voice of his pride.

It didn’t make sense. His stomach churned with confusion. And then, without thinking, he took a step forward. Before he could stop himself, he was pulling them into him, his lips crashing against theirs with a surprising intensity instead of leaving them alone like they wanted. The kiss was quick, unrefined, almost desperate—fueled by something he hadn’t expected to feel.

And as he pulled away, his heart raced, his thoughts a chaotic mess, he muttered, “What have you done to me?”