You and Talia were walking down the hallway, casually heading toward class—when something caught your eye on the bulletin board. Without a word, you sprinted toward it, heart racing.. and your eyes widened as you pointed to a photo—
“f**k! This is why he’s so familiar—”
Talia, seeing your sudden outburst, rushed over. When she saw the photo, she immediately sent you an exhausted look. “Girl—where the hell have you been?!”
You stared at the bulletin with a cringe before stomping on your feet in boiling irritation, sending your hair into a wasp of hot mess. Behind you, between the lines of the sports achievement announcement, there’s that one.. picture. A photo of a guy, mid-action—holding a baseball bat. Underneath, the caption read..
Hitter of the Season: Dominic Hunt
“Girl, he’s practically campus legend! A year younger than us, though. Ok listen—he brought different cars. Each month. They say he had so many he’d never driven the same one twice—”
“Goddamn girl they be lyin,” you rolled your eyes, dismissing the superstition.
Talia shrugged, "My favorite’s his M4 though,"
“What are you his fans?”
“Whatever. Listen—all those cars, plus he's been driving them around since he was just. a freshman? Come onnnn~”
“Explains that cocky smirk of his,”
“Girl are you in love?” Talia gave you a suspicious side-eye, raising an eyebrow, sending you into a manic stage as you glared at her, repulsed.
“What?! Since when exclaiming your opinions calls for falling in love?!” You threw your hands up before storming off, “If anyone's in love with him, it’s you—”
"Anyway. Everyone on campus has heard of Dominic Hunt, especially~ girls wearing Birkins. And if they haven’t, they’re either living under a rock—” she paused, making sure you noticed her implications, “or they’re just.. geeky.”
You groaned dramatically as you continued walking with your Birkin—stocks.
“Rumor has it that he, along with—remember that Tyler and Liam? They practically Superman-ed our baseball team. Since they joined, wins had become so frequent that they called them ‘the lucky charms’,”
As Talia spoke, you couldn’t help but picture Dominic, swaggering up to the baseball field with that cocky smirk of his, a crowd of adoring fans cheering as he probably hit a home run, toss his bat aside, and wink at the girls in the stands as they squealed in delight.
“Ugh, not another asshole jock—”
“Maybe just your type—“
“OH HE ISN’T—“
”And you know—the car that’s been driving around the quad? He’s one of the builders,” Talia explained casually.
“Ok nice. Awesome. So he isn’t just a pretty face. Noted. Keep it coming,” you nagged under your breath, before knitting your brows together. “Wait.. he’s an automotive engineering major?”
You picture Dominic in the driver's seat of the electric car, zooming around the quad like he owned the place—because, apparently, he does. His golden locks catching in the wind as he raced by, one hand casually resting on the wheel and—ugh—that damn smirk plastered on his face?
You exhaled. “So he’s a baseball jock, his parents has an empire—”
“—and a hot nerd too at that,” Talia added, smirking.
You slowly turned to glare at her, before with a twitching mouth, you snapped, “Wait, why do I sense heart eyes coming from you?!”
“Just stating the facts.” Talia said with a shrug, holding her hands up in mock surrender.
Darting your cynical gaze away from her, the two of you walked in silence. Her eyes stole glances towards pouting you—before she annoyingly mumbled, “His voice is really nice too—”
“Don’t—” you warned, holding your hand up in front of her face, glaring.
Talia snapped her mouth shut, but she couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face as she slowly popped out from your hand to say, “Don’t forget that he also knows about our secret.”
“NO s**t!”
You snapped, storming ahead, trying to leave Talia behind. But as the realization fully hit, you slowed down, body sagging with defeat. You stopped in your tracks, turning to her, voice transformed into whispers of worry.
“What should we do?! We have to cover our tracks! Erase everything! We did it just that one time—for God’s sake why are we so unlucky?!”
“Ugh, he’s an asshole though,” Talia mumbled, “look. At least you didn’t go viral, girl. He must’ve used his connections to make sure yesterday’s little incident stayed quiet—”
“Urgh stop stop stop! No more talking ‘bout the boyband?”
Talia raised her eyebrow, incredulous. “b***h, you’re the one who brought him up first!” she snapped as you narrowed her eyes to her, covering your ears. Talia sighed, giving up the argument. “Alright, alright. Are you coming to the hearing tonight?”
You stiffened, refusing to make eye contact. Talia’s eyes widened in disbelief as she shouted, “God don’t tell me you’re meeting—”
“N—no! What—”
"Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity is? Insanity is doing the exact.. same f*****g thing.. over and over again expecting s**t to change."
“Are you seriously being sarcastic to me right now?” you squinted at her, trying to suppress a grin. "Ok. yes. I agree—” but then your face twisted in mock annoyance, “but you’re stealing Vaas’ line, and I don’t appreciate it.”
Talia gasped, eyes lighting up. “Wait—you play Far Cry?!”
“No, I just love Michael Mando,” you deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
Talia wiggled her eyebrows at you. “Respect.”
You rolled your eyes, before a slight smile perked on your lips. “I’m comingggg.”
Though it still didn’t give Talia the ensurement as she shot you a suspicious look. Eventually, in resignation, she sighed, “Okay, I’ll see you tonight, alright?” before glancing at her phone and adjusting her bag, readying herself to head off in a different direction.
You nodded, and with that, she gave you a little wave, turning down another hallway. Exhaling, you rounded the corner—when you collided with someone!
“What the—”
The low voice trailed off as you both finally registered who the other was. Automatically, you took a step back—almost stumbling into another person—but a hand shot out with lightning reflexes, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer! The contact sent a jolt through you—a sensation felt like pleasure—
No! Pressure. I mean—ugh.
“Careful,” he muttered, eyes still behind you.. but then they found yours, locking onto your wide-eyed gaze—which instantly turned into a confused gaze. You noticed how looong his eyelashes were—you're bald compared to him. You traced how the long.. golden strands framing his sharp jaw.. how it hanged just barely, almost touching your cheeks—
"You—" you both muttered at the same time, voices overlapping. In a sudden awakening, your nervous gaze transformed into a glare, but his smirk only deepened.
“Feels like fate, huh?”
Dominic teased, clearly enjoying the moment as a light blush betrayed you. Annoyed, you pulled your arm back, crossing it over your chest as you stepped away. The two of you just had another glaring showdown, but not until his gaze raked over your outfit in disapproval.
“Back to.. those ugly Birkenstocks I see,” he snickered, tone dripping with disappointment.
You blinked, caught off guard for a second, before sputtering, “What—ever heard of comfort?! Can you just—be civil for once?! I know you’re such a dickhead but at least have some decency to—”
Despite your ranting, ignoring you, his eyes darted upward. His amused expression softened—as from above your head, his gaze followed a bee trail.. until it landed upon your head. And out of nowhere, he laughed.
“What?!” you snapped, challenging him in mounted annoyance. “What’s so funny?!”
He chuckled, his amused gaze returning to you. Slowly, he reached toward your head, brushing—taking something off. You flinched slightly at his sudden theatrics, but then he held up his hand to reveal..
A single brown leaf.
Blinking in surprise, your eyes darted from the leaf to his amused chuckle—to above you, as you stammered, “W—wh—where did that come from?!”
Without taking away his glance off you, he pointed with the hand that’s been clamping the leaf up at the trees nearby. “Above,” he laughed with that same mischievous smile, before gesturing to you, “want it as a souvenir? Damn should’ve taken a picture of it first,”
Flustered, you laughed nervously—then turned your back to him. Internally reminding yourself how a jackass he is—however, a wave of heat still can’t help but radiate all over you.
Fuck.
Really? A moment? A freaking moment with a jackass who disrespected you in public?! Really, world?!
“What are you doing?” he scoffed, the amusement in his voice crystal clear.
“Because. I don’t want to see your face.”
With his head dropped on the ground, a chuckle rolled out from his throat. He played the leaf, twirling it around..
“Renata.. Renata.”
When he lifted his head to your back, he dropped it on the ground, and put his hands on his pockets. “Renata, right?” he teased, muttering your name. And you hate how it sounded like butter coming from his mouth.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
“Maybe because you disrespected me in front of everyone, you jack-ass!” you turned, finally facing him again. This time, yesterday’s nightmare came surging back through the back of your mind.
Tilting his head in amusement, he smirked, “Have you thought about what I said, though?”
“In. your. dreams!”
“Isn't last time you said we’ll meet in yours?”
Your eyes narrowed. “You said that.”
“Oh okay,” he looked away, trying not to laugh. However, as his gaze turned back at you, his smirk turned darker as he taunted, “So it’s gonna be me telling the professors that you and your friend tampered the announcement yesterday then—”
Eyes widened in panic, you lunged forward—slapping your hand over his mouth, and yanking him into a narrow side hallway!
Despite his heavy built-bod, it’s nothing against your unwillingness to not get caught. Looking around frantically to make sure no one overheard, you whispered angrily, “CAN YOU SAY THAT ANY LOUDER?!”
“Can. SO IT’S GONNA BE ME TELLING THE PROFESSORS—”
Your hand tightened over his mouth once more, seething, “Are you serious right now?!”
He laughed, clearly amused, even with your hand pressed against his lips. The sound was muffled, but his eyes danced with humor. After a second, you pulled your hand away, glaring at him.
“This feels.. nostalgic, doesn’t it?”
Dominic’s voice was low, teasing. Like he had the upper hand in this dance you never wanted to start.
For a second, you froze, almost the same time you quickly realized what he meant—and with a tired, annoyed look, you groaned, “Stop being annoying, please.”
“Oh I get it,” he muttered, leaning in closer, the tip of his tongue licking the bottom of his lips. “You pulled me in here on purpose, didn’t you?”
You drew back, still trying to maintain your glare.. but he’s not stopping. Instead, he inched closer.. and closer.. pushing you back until your shoulders hit the sandstone wall. Your pulse quickened, the angry bull turned into wide-eyed bambi. The heat between you rose as he leaned in further.. eyes darkening as they flicked to your lips.
“Wanna continue where we left off?”
Dominic whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin, and you feel your skin prickled. Slowly tilting his head, his lips almost brushing yours. You weren’t sure if you were tense or tempted. Looking away, you automatically bite your bottom lip, and the smirk he wore faltered, turning into something.. much dangerous.
But you stomped hard on his foot!
“WHAT THE f**k?!” he shouted, hopping back and clutching his foot.
“S—stay away from me!” you stammered, lifting up your chin while stumbling in folding your arms over your chest. Trying to fake your confident composure as he flipped his head upwards, causing his blonde strands to cover his annoyed expression.
“You didn’t have to do that, you—!” he groaned, still wincing from the pain as he finally leaned his back on the bushes across from you. With a dramatic huff, he pushed himself off the bushes to stand—glaring at you, but there was still that playful glint in his eyes. “Okay love, I’m waiting for your answer,”
“You’re cringe.”
“Not as cringe as your birkenstocks, though,”
Nodding in severe vexation, you mince your eyes to blurt, “and so. freaking annoying.”
Before walking away, Dominic paused. He leaned his face closer to you one last time.. and with a wink, he placed a mock salute on his forehead like a pirate.
“Bump to me later, love.”
Then he turned on his heel, casually strolling away, whistling like nothing had happened.
You stood there, arms crossed, watching him walk off, frustration simmering. “Ughhh, that guy!” you groaned to yourself, throwing your hands in the air before you stomped off in the opposite direction—but you stopped on your tracks. Mouth hanged open, your arms flailed to your sides as you find yourself face-to-face..
With Professor Anderson himself.
“Ms. Paradis,” he said sternly, arms folded in front of his chest. And the last word already felt like a death sentence as you feel your legs wobble beneath you.
“I’d like a word.”