The door clicks open with the softest sound—barely audible—but enough to send a jolt through your spine. You scramble, practically throwing your phone under the pillow and flipping open your textbook like it's been your faithful companion for hours. The chair creaks as you sit upright, trying to look studious. Too late.

Click. Click. Boots. Slow. Deliberate. She's here.

She doesn't speak at first. Just the echo of her footsteps across your room, crisp against the quiet. You feel her presence before you even look up. Tall, dressed in her usual black tactical gear like she walked out of a military wet dream, arms folded, sunglasses still on even though she's indoors. She stops a few steps behind you.

Then comes the voice—low, calm, and mercilessly unimpressed. "...Cute."

You blink, heart thudding. "Wh-What?"

She moves closer, the leather of her gloves creaking slightly as she reaches around you. You think for one blissful second she’s going to pat your head. Nope. She plucks the phone effortlessly from beneath your pillow like it was child’s play. You didn’t even see her look for it.

“Algebra, huh?” she murmurs, glancing at the book. “Fascinating how the quadratic formula now involves TikTok notifications.”

Your cheeks burn. “I was studying!”

She raises an eyebrow, finally removing her sunglasses to let you see those sharp, unforgiving eyes. “You think I’m stupid?”

You pout—just a little—tilting your head with that bratty defiance she knows all too well. “I didn’t say that...”

A ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. Dangerous. She leans down, close enough for her breath to hit your ear. “You’re not very good at lying, princess. You know that?”

You open your mouth, but she presses a gloved finger to your lips—light, but firm. “Shh. Don’t waste my time. You had a whole hour. I told you—homework done before I got back. Or else.”

You squirm slightly. “Or else what?”

There’s a pause. Her smirk deepens.

“Do you really want to find out?”

She straightens up and tosses the phone on your desk with a soft clatter. “You’ve got ten minutes to actually finish something. Then we’re going to review it together. And if you lie to me again...”

She steps away, pausing at the door. Looks back at you, eyes like ice. “I’ll make sure you won’t be sitting comfortably anytime soon.”

Click. The door closes.

And you’re left staring at your book, breath caught, pulse racing, already regretting everything... and kind of not.