I walked into class like I hadn’t just almost lost my V-card the night before.
Which, by the way, is harder than it sounds when the girlwho nearly took it is already sitting in your seat. Legs crossed. Lip gloss poppin’. Wearing my hoodie.
My hoodie.
She waved at like nothing happened. Like she didn’t climb into my lap, make forget what year it was, then whisper "I’m supposed to be a good girl" before going back to studying like it was just a Tuesday.
It was just a Tuesday.
And I was losing my mind.
I sat next to her. She imdiately hooked her arm through mine.
"You’re tense," she whispered.
"I wonder why."
She leaned in. Her breath brushed my neck.
> "You’re cute when you’re still recovering."
My soul nearly exited my body.
Professor Halifax walked in. Clipboard in hand. Glasses sliding down his nose like always. The man looked like he should be teaching spells at Hogwarts, not macroeconomics at a high-end breeding ground for the next generation of power-hungry monsters.
"Alright," he muttered, already annoyed. "We’re doing partner work for the upcoming market trends analysis."
Everyone groaned.
"Two-week project. You’ll pick a partner. Or rather—I’ve picked your partners."
Groans turned to dread, nas were read, people shuffled seats.
I heard mine—
"Kai Tanaka, you’re with—"
"," Celestia said, raising her hand like it was obvious.
Professor Halifax blinked.
"Uh, actually, I have you listed with—"
"I said ." Her voice didn’t raise. But the room went dead quiet.
Everyone turned.
Celestia Moreau, billionaire brat, unofficial queen of the campus, wasn’t asking. She was declaring.
Professor Halifax stared at her for one full second.
Then sighed.
"...Fine. Tanaka and Moreau. Partners."
The man looked like he wanted to retire yesterday.
Celestia turned to with a grin that said you’re mine for two weeks straight.
Two weeks.
Take-ho project. Multiple sessions. Private work environnts.
I was so dead.
---
She wasted no ti.
After class, she dragged to the library — not the public section where people might accidentally see us — the silent wing. The one nobody ever uses. The one with tables far from human life.
She sat across from . Books in front of her. Laptop open.
But her eyes?
Locked on .
"You’re staring," I muttered, pretending to read.
She didn’t even blink. "Of course I am. You’re hot when you’re nervous."
"Celestia—"
> "You’re even hotter when you say my na like that."
"Celestia."
> "Okay now you’re doing it on purpose."
She stood, ca around the table.
Sat on the table. In front of . Legs dangling between mine.
I leaned back in the chair like it might save .
It didn’t.
She leaned forward. Just enough that I caught a glimpse down her tank top.
Then she whispered, "Do you want to behave for this project... or do you want to failit on purpose so I can punish you?"
I nearly choked on my own saliva.
"I—w-what?!"
She bit her lip then giggled. Full evil, full mischief.
"I’m kidding," she said.
She wasn’t. I knew she wasn’t.
"You need boundaries," I muttered.
She tilted her head. "I have boundaries."
"No, you are a boundary violation."
> "I’m your girlfriend."
"That’s not a defense in court."
> "It is if your daddy pays the judge," she said sweetly.
I was speechless, rock hard and terrified. Again.
She noticed. Obviously.
"Ohhh, soone’s excited to study," she cooed.
"Can you please sit back in your chair like a normal human?"
She hopped off the table with a wink.
Then sat beside , thigh against mine, fingers lacing with mine under the table.
I tried to study.
I really did.
But she kept tracing circles on my palm. Leaning in to "check sothing on my screen" and pressing her chest to my shoulder. Whispering hot little nothings like "You’re lucky I like you," and "I could ruin you if I wanted to."
She already was.
And it had only been fifteen minutes.
---
Two weeks.
I wasn’t gonna survive.
And sohow?
Part of didn’t want to.
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