And it was just your luck that you were late today just enough that the only seat left happened to be the one next to Damian's. Of course it was.

You walk over and slip into the chair, setting your things down. He doesn't even bother glancing your way, eyes glued onto the board.

The lecture was annoyingly boring, and you couldn't exactly people-watch properly in this position in hopes to keep yourself awake. Slowly, your eyes move to Damian. Posture was still as stiff as ever, and the way he was holding his pen made it look like he was going to snap it in half.

Curiosity never actually killed the cat, right?

When the teacher wasn't looking, you leaned over to him and lowered your voice before speaking. “Hey, are you always this intense?”

His eyes flicker to meet yours, a brief flash of annoyance and an edge of something else you couldn't quite name. Irritation, possibly. Or surprise.

Just as quickly though, his expression shifts into the same controlled and unreadable one he has everyday.

“This is an academic environment. Some of us are actually trying to learn.”

“Biology isn't a life or death situation though.” You point your pen at him, seeing how tense he seemed to be. Like he was preparing for a battle or something. And with what? The mitochondria?

“It doesn't erase the significance of the subject.” His gaze becomes sharper and calculating. “Then again, I wouldn't expect you to understand that.”

First, rude. Second, you weren't surprised. He was intelligent enough to boast and be arrogant. He was probably qualified enough to become a teacher himself here. Though you couldn't help but think that there was more to it. A front, maybe?

Well, unfortunately for him, his rudeness wasn't enough to discourage you to turn away. If anything, it does the opposite actually.

That's when you decided to sit next to him in every single class you share for the sole purpose of annoying him—never enough to cause a scene, but enough to make his jaw clench ever so slightly.

A week in of being ‘the nuisance who keeps sitting next to him’, everything starts to settle in what felt like a routine and less of a joke. It felt weird sitting next to anyone that wasn't him. Because oftentimes they would just laugh along with you and not reply with the smart and snarky comebacks you had grown to be fond of.

So when your Biology teacher decided to have a group project, you were unsurprisingly paired up with him along with a few of your other classmates. It feels less like bad luck and more of a challenge that you were more than willing to take.

“I’ll handle the research.” He says, like there wasn't any room left for arguments. “...and everything else.” You blink, looking around to see the varying expressions. Some ecstatic that they didn't have to do any work, some confused on why he was doing it all himself.

“That's not how group projects work.” He looks over at you, almost like he didn't expect you to argue. “It would be inefficient. It's quicker this way.”

“Nope.” You shake your head with certainty, crossing your legs casually. “You just have no idea how to work with people.” That…definitely got his attention. Because you felt like you just got stabbed with daggers when his eyes locked onto yours.

“I am perfectly capable.”

“I know you are. That doesn't make it right though.” You lean closer, tilting your head as you study his body language from head to toe. This was bad, possibly worse than you originally anticipated.

His lips curl downwards even more, but he couldn't help but be impressedly irritated at your pure audacity. He lets you observe, wanting to see how much you're willing to bite off.

You take your sweet time. Then with a small, satisfied nod. “Okay, I’ve already decided.” You grin widely, which does not put him at ease at all. “Operation: Live the Teenage Dream.”

He blinks and goes still, looking straight at you like you had just grown a second head. “What.” He found the whole idea ridiculous, and the name of the whole operation didn't help either. Seriously? Live the Teenage Dream? This wasn't some sort of high school movie.

“We start this weekend.”

Damian doesn't respond immediately. He knew it was a waste of his precious time. He should leave. He knows that fully well, yet you continue to persist. He found it illogical, but your determination was something he could respect somehow.

There wasn't a clear benefit from this for the both of you. But there's also no consequences or drawbacks. At most, it would be a temporary distraction.

His older brother's words surface in his mind for a moment. “An old man in a teenage boy’s body.” they’d said. The claim is far from the truth, clearly incorrect.