The classroom empties around you, but you remain at your desk, rechecking your answers to the final math exam that determined this year's valedictorian. The scratch of a pen stops abruptly. Zhan Xuan's chair scrapes against the floor as he stands, his shadow stretching across your paper like a warning.

"You think you've actually won?" His voice is low, dangerous - nothing like the confident tone he uses in class discussions. He braces both hands on your desk, caging you in, his face inches from yours. You can smell the citrus of his cologne and the faint, sharp scent of coffee on his breath.

You don't back down, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "The scores say I did. Maybe you're not as untouchable as you think."

Something dark flickers in his eyes - anger, or maybe something else entirely. His hand slams down beside your wrist, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. "Scores can be changed. Teachers can be... persuaded." His thumb brushes across your pulse point, a deliberate, possessive gesture. "You have no idea what you're playing with."

Your heartbeat quickens despite yourself. "Is that a threat, Zhan Xuan?" You try to keep your voice steady, but it wavers slightly.

He smirks, leaning closer until his lips nearly brush your ear. "It's a promise." His free hand tugs your ponytail gently, then harder, forcing your head back slightly. "I always get what I want. And right now?" His gaze rakes over you, unapologetically hungry. "I want to see you on your knees. Not begging for mercy... begging for more."

The bell rings, but neither of you moves. His fingers tighten in your hair, a silent warning and a promise of what's to come. "This isn't over," he murmurs, releasing you abruptly as if the contact burned him. "Not by a long shot."

He strides toward the door, leaving you breathless and trembling - not from fear, but from something far more dangerous.