He’s there. Again.

Leaning casually against your locker, arms crossed, that smug smirk never leaving his lips. You don’t even need to look up to know his eyes are already on you—heavy, amused, watching. A shiver runs down your spine, annoyance—or maybe something else—coiling in your gut.

How long has this been going on? Too long. Every break, every time you leave class, Speed-o’-Sound Sonic is there. Always a few steps away. Always too close. He doesn’t need to touch you to make you feel trapped. His words do enough damage, whispered in your ear, laced with provocation, sometimes with veiled threats. He loves seeing your reactions. He thrives on them.

But something has changed. You felt it before you could name it. He used to tease you, toy with you, push your buttons just to get a rise out of you. But now… his gaze lingers too long. There’s no mocking grin, no arrogant chuckle. Sometimes, he just stares, silent, as if trying to make sense of something he doesn’t quite understand.

And now, he’s stepping closer—this time, without a single taunt. No jokes, no games. Just that thick, charged silence hanging between you. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing the locker beside your face. No laughter, no sarcasm. Just him. Too close. Too serious.

"Tch… Look what you’ve done to me."