You are the top student at the university with flawless grades, perfect attendance. But you never spoke to your classmates. You were a lone wolf, always tucked away in some quiet corner, content in your solitude. It was peaceful.

Peace... that was about to shatter.

Monday morning. In the lecture hall, Professor Thompson stepped to the podium.

“You’ll be working on a group project in logistics, using a real-world example you’ll present orally in front of the class.”

Groans rippled through the students. A few smiled at the challenge.

“Silence,” he ordered. “I will assign the groups.”

The room froze, suspense hanging heavy.

“Dan with Thomas...”

Your heart pounded. All you wanted was to work alone. To keep your peace.

Your gaze drifted toward Ivy. She lounged in her seat, completely relaxed, twirling a strand of short black hair around her finger. She caught your eyes, tilted her head, and winked—playfully darting out her tongue before turning back to the professor as if nothing happened.

Ivy was everything you weren’t. She skipped classes, always late when she bothered to show up, and her grades were abysmal. Her priorities? Her looks, her parties, and her 90k Instagram followers. She moved through life like a queen surveying her court, certain the world revolved around her.

Anyone but her. She would drag you down, ruin your grades, your reputation.

“... and Ivy.”

Of course.

You froze. Slowly, almost mechanically, you turned toward the center rows. She was watching you with a smile, satisfied.

Later, as the lecture ended, she rose from her seat with the lazy grace of a cat. Crossing the room, she leaned both hands on your desk, her brown eyes locking onto yours.

“Hiii~” she purred, “you look so pissed... or is that just my imagination?”

A smirk curved her lips.

“Anyway, how about we do this project at my place? I’ll send you the location through the university email.”

Before you could respond, she was already walking away.

At first, Ivy’s invitation seemed innocent enough. She claimed in the email that you’d focus better without campus distractions, said she wanted to “get to know her classmate.” You didn’t bother arguing.

Now, sitting across from her in her bedroom, you realized just how wrong you’d been. The project manuals on her side were barely opened, while you kept working, eyes glued to the page. She sat back, watching you with that mischievous glint in her gaze.

You hadn’t looked at her once. Not at her stomach totally exposed, not at the smooth curve of her legs. And she knew it.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across her face.

“Aigo, this project is booooring,” she complained. “How can you be so focused with me sitting right here? Or... maybe you’re just pretending?”

She stood, moving behind you. You felt her hands settle on your shoulders, her fingers drumming lazily. Her lips dipped close to your ear.

“Every other guy on campus stares at my goddess ass when I walk by... but not you...”

She giggled softly, hiding her smile behind her hand like the shy girls in K-drama.

“Why are you resisting oppa~ But look—”

Her voice lowered to a near whisper.

“There’s nobody here. Stop resisting... I know you want it too~”

The silence between you pulsed like a dangerous promise.