KISS ME, ENEMY

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and old paper was Lalessa Banks's favorite perfume. It was the scent of her sanctuary—the university cafe, a place where the world outside faded, and her own worlds, filled with delicious recipes and dramatic dialogue, came to life. She was hunched over a script, a battered notebook filled with her meticulous handwriting. The words for her new play, a sweeping romance about a chef and a playwright, were flowing from her pen. This was her passion, her escape from the high-stakes world of her father’s company. She was Lalessa Banks, not just the CEO’s daughter, and this script was her proof. A low murmur rippled through the cafe, pulling her from her thoughts. It wasn’t a gentle buzz; it was a hungry hum of attention, a noise Lalessa knew well and hated. She didn’t even have to look up. She knew who it was. The only person on campus who could command a room just by walking into it. Raymond James. The school's golden boy. A celebrity actor and musician whose face was plastered on every campus magazine and plastered all over social media. He walked with a swagger that was both effortless and infuriating. He was everything Lalessa wasn't: loud, arrogant, and seemingly without a care in the world. To him, life was a stage, and he was always the star. Lalessa ignored the collective gasp as he passed her table, his entourage trailing behind him like a cloud of groupies. She dipped her head back into her script, trying to block out the sound of his booming laugh. She had to finish this scene; the c****x needed a moment of raw, unexpected tension. Lost in her thoughts, she reached for her mug of hot coffee, but her hand wasn’t steady. The collision happened in a flash. One moment, she was in her own world; the next, she was jolted forward, her cup flying from her hand. A loud gasp echoed through the cafe, followed by a stunned silence. Her coffee, a dark, steaming river of caffeine, was now a permanent stain on Raymond James’s pristine, white designer jacket. She looked up slowly, her heart pounding. Raymond’s smirk was gone, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated fury. The jacket was probably worth more than her entire tuition. "Are you serious, Banks?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you have any idea how much this jacket costs?" Lalessa felt a familiar spark of defiance. She stood up, facing him head-on. She wasn’t going to back down. Not from him. "Do you have any idea how much my coffee costs?" she shot back, her voice just as sharp. "More importantly, do you have any idea how much my concentration costs? You just ruined a scene." A few of his friends snickered, but Raymond silenced them with a glare. He took a step closer, and the space between them felt charged, like a thunderstorm was about to break. "You're unbelievable," he said, shaking his head in disgust. "Always in your own little world, aren't you? So important, so focused. Maybe you should try looking where you're going for once." Lalessa’s cheeks flushed. He had hit a nerve. For a brief, horrible second, she felt a flicker of shame, but it was quickly replaced by a hot wave of anger. "Maybe you should try not taking up the entire cafe with your ego," she retorted, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Not everyone lives in a movie, Raymond." His eyes narrowed. This wasn't just about a coffee spill anymore. Their rivalry was a long and complicated history, starting from a high school talent show where she beat him for a prestigious award. The public had been feasting on their drama ever since, and this was just another chapter. "I think you did this on purpose," he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it cut through the silent cafe. "I think you saw a chance to get some attention, and you took it." The accusation stung. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. "The only thing I want from you is for you to stay out of my way," she said, her voice trembling slightly, but she refused to let him see her break. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a script to rewrite, thanks to you." She tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path. His eyes, a striking shade of hazel, held hers. And in that moment, something shifted. The anger in his gaze was still there, but it was mixed with something else—something raw and intense, a flicker of something she couldn’t name. Her heart, which had been pounding with anger, suddenly skipped a beat. It was a fleeting, confusing moment, a jolt of static electricity in the midst of their verbal war. Raymond seemed to feel it too. He took a step back, breaking the tension, and the cold mask of arrogance returned to his face. He looked at his ruined jacket, then back at her, a bitter smile on his lips. "Fine," he said, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Have your little moment, Banks. But you owe me a new jacket." "I owe you nothing!" she yelled, but he was already walking away, his entourage hurrying to catch up. The cafe erupted into a series of hushed whispers and curious glances. Lalessa stood there, the lingering tension making her feel breathless and shaky. Raymond stopped at the door. He didn't turn his head all the way, but he glanced back at her over his shoulder. The arrogant smirk was back, but it held a glint of something more, a promise of a battle yet to come. "This isn't over, Banks," he said, his voice echoing in the cafe. "Not by a long shot." The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and old paper was Lalessa Banks's favorite perfume. It was the scent of her sanctuary—the university cafe, a place where the world outside faded, and her own worlds, filled with delicious recipes and dramatic dialogue, came to life. She was hunched over a script, a battered notebook filled with her meticulous handwriting. The words for her new play, a sweeping romance about a chef and a playwright, were flowing from her pen. This was her passion, her escape from the high-stakes world of her father’s company. She was Lalessa Banks, not just the CEO’s daughter, and this script was her proof. A low murmur rippled through the cafe, pulling her from her thoughts. It wasn’t a gentle buzz; it was a hungry hum of attention, a noise Lalessa knew well and hated. She didn’t even have to look up. She knew who it was. The only person on campus who could command a room just by walking into it. Raymond James. The school's golden boy. A celebrity actor and musician whose face was plastered on every campus magazine and plastered all over social media. He walked with a swagger that was both effortless and infuriating. He was everything Lalessa wasn't: loud, arrogant, and seemingly without a care in the world. To him, life was a stage, and he was always the star. Lalessa ignored the collective gasp as he passed her table, his entourage trailing behind him like a cloud of groupies. She dipped her head back into her script, trying to block out the sound of his booming laugh. She had to finish this scene; the c****x needed a moment of raw, unexpected tension. Lost in her thoughts, she reached for her mug of hot coffee, but her hand wasn’t steady. The collision happened in a flash. One moment, she was in her own world; the next, she was jolted forward, her cup flying from her hand. A loud gasp echoed through the cafe, followed by a stunned silence. Her coffee, a dark, steaming river of caffeine, was now a permanent stain on Raymond James’s pristine, white designer jacket. She looked up slowly, her heart pounding. Raymond’s smirk was gone, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated fury. The jacket was probably worth more than her entire tuition. "Are you serious, Banks?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you have any idea how much this jacket costs?" Lalessa felt a familiar spark of defiance. She stood up, facing him head-on. She wasn’t going to back down. Not from him. "Do you have any idea how much my coffee costs?" she shot back, her voice just as sharp. "More importantly, do you have any idea how much my concentration costs? You just ruined a scene." A few of his friends snickered, but Raymond silenced them with a glare. He took a step closer, and the space between them felt charged, like a thunderstorm was about to break. "You're unbelievable," he said, shaking his head in disgust. "Always in your own little world, aren't you? So important, so focused. Maybe you should try looking where you're going for once." Lalessa’s cheeks flushed. He had hit a nerve. For a brief, horrible second, she felt a flicker of shame, but it was quickly replaced by a hot wave of anger. "Maybe you should try not taking up the entire cafe with your ego," she retorted, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Not everyone lives in a movie, Raymond." His eyes narrowed. This wasn't just about a coffee spill anymore. Their rivalry was a long and complicated history, starting from a high school talent show where she beat him for a prestigious award. The public had been feasting on their drama ever since, and this was just another chapter. "I think you did this on purpose," he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it cut through the silent cafe. "I think you saw a chance to get some attention, and you took it." The accusation stung. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. "The only thing I want from you is for you to stay out of my way," she said, her voice trembling slightly, but she refused to let him see her break. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a script to rewrite, thanks to you." She tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path. His eyes, a striking shade of hazel, held hers. And in that moment, something shifted. The anger in his gaze was still there, but it was mixed with something else—something raw and intense, a flicker of something she couldn’t name. Her heart, which had been pounding with anger, suddenly skipped a beat. It was a fleeting, confusing moment, a jolt of static electricity in the midst of their verbal war. Raymond seemed to feel it too. He took a step back, breaking the tension, and the cold mask of arrogance returned to his face. He looked at his ruined jacket, then back at her, a bitter smile on his lips. "Fine," he said, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Have your little moment, Banks. But you owe me a new jacket." "I owe you nothing!" she yelled, but he was already walking away, his entourage hurrying to catch up. The cafe erupted into a series of hushed whispers and curious glances. Lalessa stood there, the lingering tension making her feel breathless and shaky. Raymond stopped at the door. He didn't turn his head all the way, but he glanced back at her over his shoulder. The arrogant smirk was back, but it held a glint of something more, a promise of a battle yet to come. "This isn't over, Banks," he said, his voice echoing in the cafe. "Not by a long shot."