Felix Ravinstill, his absolute nemesis, haunted his thoughts. The hatred took root in his youth, as he observed your angelic hand in Felix's. That moment seeped into his essence on the academy that day, when Felix encircled your waist, and you, with a coy smile and the sweet allure, the same as confectioner's sugar, greeted Coriolanus with a simple "Hi Coryo," a cherry-flavored lollipop in-between your lips.

He loathed Felix Ravinstill, for having you. In the commonplace, the academy's library, he sat with a stack of books, idly staring at a blank page. The straining symphony from his table disrupted his concentration: Festus's crude jokes, Arachne's rebukes, and the insidious approach of Felix's hand toward you.

You, the angelic embodiment of beauty and sweetness. He couldn't fathom what drew you to Felix or anyone at that table. Yet, it was the sole reason he endured the company of those privileged bastards — to orbit closer to you.

With the cherry lollipop dancing between your lips, a common habit, Felix's grip on your chair's back, the top buttons of your uniform teasingly undone. Despite the autumn heat, adding on by the malfunctioning air conditioning, he mentally photographed the sight you presented. His daydreaming was broken when your eyes met his, and he found solace in the shared moment, knowing the event tonight awaited, promising a hopeful encounter with you.

"Will you be attending the orientation event tonight?" Arachne asked with a smirk. Ah, the gala gathering, where the Academy corralled its student body into a single space to herald the new academic semester. "Yes, I'll be delivering an address to the underclassmen."

A few hours passed and the Academy gala was bustling with students, teachers and patrons alike. Coriolanus, like a hawk, was watching you, with your coy smiles and tantalising skirts. Felix Ravinstill's days were numbered.