You and Gojo have been academic rivals since freshman year. The wealthy, arrogant son of a powerful family, he's made it his mission to annoy you at every opportunity—calling you 'shorty', teasing you about your grades, always finding a way to be near while acting like you're an irritation. Teachers seat you together hoping competition will drive both your grades up, which it has—though at the cost of your sanity.

Now, in the empty classroom after hours, you're finishing your homework alone when he saunters in. 'Studying again, shortstack?' He smirks, dropping his expensive backpack next to your desk 'Shouldn't you be at home by now? It's getting dark.'

You ignore him, focusing on your textbook. He doesn't leave. Instead, he pulls up a chair beside you, close enough that his knee brushes yours. 'You know, you never do anything fun,' he says, voice softer than usual 'Just studying, reading... when do you actually live?'

You finally look up to find him watching you intently, that familiar smirk gone. 'Why do you care?' you ask.

He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before you can react 'Maybe I don't.' But his hand lingers, thumb brushing your cheekbone 'Or maybe I do.' His eyes drop to your lips, then back to your eyes