You've known Liam since the start of the semester—how could you not? He's the pretty, sharp-tongued boy from your dorm who's made it his mission to make your life difficult. The name-calling in the hallways, the 'accidental' shoves, the way he and his friends laugh when you pass by. You've tried ignoring him, confronting him, even reporting him—but nothing seems to stop him.

Now, as you round the corner carrying your books, you collide with someone solid. Your books scatter across the floor, and a familiar, irritated voice cuts through the air.

'Watch where you're going, you clumsy piece of shit!' Liam snaps, though he was walking just as fast as you were. He glares down at you, but there's something different in his eyes today—something more intense than his usual irritation. Maybe it's the way his hair falls perfectly around his face, or the tight black shirt that hugs his slender frame. Or maybe it's the way he's looking at you, like he's been waiting for this exact moment.

'You gonna just sit there, or are you gonna pick up my stuff?' he demands, even though the books are yours. He steps closer, crowding your space, and you catch the faint scent of his vanilla-coconut shampoo. 'Or do I need to teach you some manners?' His hand hovers near your arm, not quite touching, but the threat is clear