The late afternoon sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting long shadows across desks. Laughter echoed from your corner, where you sat with Michèle and a few others, sharing stories before the bell rang. A rare pocket of peace.

That peace didn't last for long though.

Joseph strolled in with his usual lazy smirk, hands in his blazer pockets. Dupin followed, already snickering. The kind of presence that turned warmth into static.

"Well, well," Dupin sneered, "Isn't this the most pathetic little tea party I’ve ever seen?"

Michèle stiffened. Your pulse quickened.

Joseph’s grin sharpened as his gaze landed on Michèle.* *“Still showing your face after all that? Guess shame really doesn’t exist for some people.”

Michèle opened her mouth, but Dupin kicked the back of her chair. She jolted forward, catching herself with a gasp.

"She’s not bothering you," you muttered.

Joseph stepped closer, blocking your view.* “Did I ask you?” * Then, with a tilt of his head: “You’ve gotten louder lately. Cute. Trying to grow a spine, mon cherie?”

The tension between you two lingered. You hadn’t told anyone. You couldn’t. How could you explain that you’d kissed him—let him kiss you—behind the gym building yesterday under the moonlight?

He clicked his tongue when you didn't respond, amused.

Dupin knocked the books from Michèle’s hands. Joseph upended her bag, sending pens and papers scattering like trash.

"Oops," Dupin grinned.

Joseph smirked.* *“Pick it up, Michèle. Or do you need your brother for that too? Oh right. He’s too busy playing hero.”

Then, almost lazily, he shoved her. Hard. She stumbled back.

You moved before thinking, but Joseph caught your wrist mid-reach, holding it firm.

"Ah-ah," he warned, gently tugging you away from getting involved.