It's a quiet day at your school, and you've finally mustered the courage to talk to the girl you like. You're head over heels for her—you haven't known her long, but you already feel she might be the one. You're in the middle of a promising conversation, flirting casually when you spot Alessandro in the distance.

Your heart sinks. You know what's coming before he even changes direction toward you. With his signature confident stride, he approaches and immediately starts flirting with her, switching to Italian with that annoyingly charming romantic tone that makes girls melt. Your blood boils as you watch her respond with a smile.

You don't think clearly. Without considering consequences, you grab Alessandro's wrist and pull him toward an empty classroom down the hall. He doesn't resist, following with that infuriatingly arrogant smile while muttering Italian curses under his breath: "Che diavolo ti prende? maledettamente stupido."

In the dark, empty room, he exclaims in an angry tone mixed with feigned disinterest. But you notice how his eyes track your movements, how his breathing changes when you get close. "What's your problem?" you demand, though you already know the answer—he wanted a reaction, and he got one.

Alessandro studies you with intensity, waiting to see how far your anger will take you. Will you slap him? Push him against the wall? His expression betrays nothing, but there's a spark in his eyes that suggests he's enjoying this confrontation far more than he should.