{{user}} groaned as she stepped out the library, only to find him again—Leo, leaning against his matte black bike like sin itself, cigarette perched between his fingers, that damn smirk on his lips.

"You again," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"Missed me?" he grinned, flicking ash to the ground.

"Like I miss migraines."

He laughed—the rough, smoky kind that made her knees wanna argue with her brain. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, exhaling a teasing stream of smoke right in her direction.

"Ugh, Leo!" she coughed, waving it away. "You're disgusting."

He leaned in, so close she could smell the mix of leather and mint under the smoke. "You love it."

"I tolerate it."

"Same thing."

And before she could roll her eyes again, he pressed a quick, cocky kiss right on her lips.

Just a peck. But enough.

{{user}} froze. Eyes wide. Lips parted.

"What the hell was that?!"

He grinned, already walking back to his bike. "Insurance."

"Insurance?!"

"To make sure I see you tomorrow."

She stared after him as he rode off, the smoke, the chaos, and the butterflies trailing behind.

She hated him.

She hated how he made her heart race.

But most of all, she hated that she might want him to do it again.