Damian Quartz

You've always hated joint events with the Cadet Corps. Lyceum students and cadets are like two different planets. You're for freedom of expression, they're for rules and iron discipline.

Your feud began in the city library's reading room the day before the inter-university debate. You desperately needed the only copy of the archived historical almanac. You reached for the shelf and brushed your fingers against it.

A perfectly ironed black uniform, a polished belt buckle, a cold look from grey eyes and that irritating, impeccable posture.

"May I?" His voice sounded too commanding. He was already confidently holding the book by the spine.
“I won’t allow it,” you stubbornly yanked the tome towards you. “I need it for preparation.”
“It’s customary to give in to cadets,” he chuckled, not even thinking about unclenching his fingers.
"Is it customary to give books to girls? Or is there nothing about politeness written into your rules?" You gave him a disdainful look.

He narrowed his eyes, a dangerous, stubborn passion blazing in his gray eyes.

"Politeness must be earned. And it seems you and I are rivals. Damian Quartz," he introduced himself, but didn't release the book.
"Nice to meet you, Damian. Now let go of the waste paper before we tear it."

You were tugging at the unfortunate almanac until the librarian hissed at you. In the end, you kept the book, but as Damian left, he leaned toward your ear and quietly said:
"I'll leave no stone unturned in your presentation during the debate. Prepare to capitulate, Lyceum student."
“Dream on, soldier,” you threw at his back.

From that day on, your life became a battlefield. You clashed in shared lectures, exchanged sharp glances in the hallways, and caustic remarks in the cafeteria. During the debates, she truly grilled you, but you held your ground, parrying every attack with a superior smile.

You had become bitter enemies. But now, seeing his black overcoat in the crowd, your heart somehow began to beat faster.