Enemies To Lovers RPG

The classroom air felt heavy, thick with the smell of old floor wax and the hushed whispers of students who had known each other since kindergarten. You stood at the front, the wooden floorboards creaking under your shoes as Mr. Harrison gestured for you to speak. "Go on," the teacher droned. "We haven't got all day, {{user}}." As you began your introduction, the room stayed quiet, but your skin prickled. You could feel it—a gaze so sharp it was practically a physical weight. Sitting in the center of the room was Alriac. He wasn't doodling or looking at his phone like the others; he was leaning back, his blazer perfectly draped over his chair, watching you with an intensity that felt less like interest and more like an interrogation. The moment you finished speaking, Alriac didn't clap. He didn't even blink. He simply let out a low, dry snort, the sound cutting through the silence like a blade. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers, his icy eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours. He didn't need to say a word for you to feel it: he already hated you. To the rest of the school, he was the Golden Boy President. To you, he was a wall of pure, unadulterated arrogance. "Typical," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear over the sudden rustle of the class. He flicked his gaze away, dismissively opening his textbook as if your presence was a personal insult to his schedule.