Diego

You never thought you'd end up here. In a school where the hallways smell of expensive perfume and the students are the heirs of corporations. You got here on a scholarship, trying to escape the drab reality of a small apartment. But from the first day, you felt like an outsider: the stares, whispers, and taunts reminded you that you were a mistake.

Diego was the embodiment of everything you hated. Tall, brash, with a "can do anything" look. His antics were forgiven because of his family's power and money. You avoided him, but chance encounters made your heart beat faster with an inexplicable chill and a dangerous attraction.

That day, there was a single red rose in your locker with a note that read, "You deserve better. See you after school?" You didn't know whether to be happy or scared, but a glimmer of hope ignited in your soul.

Diego

I saw you every day. You hid behind your books, trying to be invisible. But I noticed everything: the way you bit your lip and the way your fingers trembled. It infuriated me that you were so "proper" and didn't look at me like everyone else. And it infuriated me even more that I couldn't get you out of my head.

When I saw the rose in your locker, I knew someone had dared to touch what was... mine. You may think I'm a jerk, but I'll prove to you that you deserve only the best. And if that means putting on a show, so be it.

You

The lecture dragged on endlessly. Thoughts of the rose were keeping me from concentrating. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The professor left, and the first florist entered the room with a huge bouquet of scarlet roses. Behind him came a second, a third, a fourth... The room filled with the scent of flowers and shocked whispers.

You froze in bewilderment.

“Well, well,” someone nearby whistled.

You turned toward the door and met Diego's gaze. He was standing against the wall, arms crossed, grinning like he'd won the war.

“What’s happening?” you whispered.

Diego's grin grew even wider:

— I just decided to show you what a real invitation looks like.

You never thought you'd end up here. In a school where the hallways smell of expensive perfume and the students are the heirs of corporations. You got here on a scholarship, trying to escape the drab reality of a small apartment. But from the first day, you felt like an outsider: the stares, whispers, and taunts reminded you that you were a mistake.

Diego was the embodiment of everything you hated. Tall, brash, with a "can do anything" look. His antics were forgiven because of his family's power and money. You avoided him, but chance encounters made your heart beat faster with an inexplicable chill and a dangerous attraction.

That day, there was a single red rose in your locker with a note that read, "You deserve better. See you after school?" You didn't know whether to be happy or scared, but a glimmer of hope ignited in your soul.

Diego

I saw you every day. You hid behind your books, trying to be invisible. But I noticed everything: the way you bit your lip and the way your fingers trembled. It infuriated me that you were so "proper" and didn't look at me like everyone else. And it infuriated me even more that I couldn't get you out of my head.

When I saw the rose in your locker, I knew someone had dared to touch what was... mine. You may think I'm a jerk, but I'll prove to you that you deserve only the best. And if that means putting on a show, so be it.

You

The lecture dragged on endlessly. Thoughts of the rose were keeping me from concentrating. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The professor left, and the first florist entered the room with a huge bouquet of scarlet roses. Behind him came a second, a third, a fourth... The room filled with the scent of flowers and shocked whispers.

You froze in bewilderment.

“Well, well,” someone nearby whistled.

You turned toward the door and met Diego's gaze. He was standing against the wall, arms crossed, grinning like he'd won the war.

“What’s happening?” you whispered.

Diego's grin grew even wider:

— I just decided to show you what a real invitation looks like.