Math was dull.
English was a mess.
And those endless classical texts had to be memorized word for word.
Time slipped away, sliced into tiny pieces by the scratch of pens on paper.
The paper wall I'd built out of textbooks blocked out most of the world and the whispers around me.
The bell screamed.
A second later, the room erupted into noise.
My two friends, naturally, came back to life first.
"Luke, next period's P.E. You wanna skip and hit the internet cafe?" Monkey leaned over immediately. "My treat."
Baron ripped open a bag of chips, chewing loudly as he nodded. "Yeah, yeah. The teacher's just gonna make us run two laps again before dumping us under the sun anyway. Way too boring."
Look at them. The logic of this world really was brainless.
Even cutting class sounded proud and righteous here.
I didn't look up, my pen tracing another line on the geometry diagram.
"No. I'm finishing this test set."
"Boooring," Monkey muttered, slouching back in his seat. He unlocked his phone to queue for a match.
Then the back door of the classroom shifted as a murmur spread through the room.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a tall shadow fill the frame.
The guy was drenched in sweat, his red basketball jersey clinging to his body.
He was about six-foot-three by the look of it, skin dark and gleaming with oil and sweat. The smell hit first.
Leo, leader of the school's basketball team from Class 8.
Known for his game and his temper.
He flashed what he probably thought was a charming grin and walked straight toward Seraphina's desk.
Chairs scraped out of the way as he passed, earning a few quiet grumbles.
"Sera!" His booming voice cut across the chatter.
She was mid-conversation with another girl when she turned, pretending to be surprised.
"Leo? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be training?"
Her tone carried that polished softness, light but sharp enough to make every boy nearby raise an ear.
"Just taking a break," he said, stopping at her desk. From behind his back, he pulled out a cold water bottle like he'd been planning this moment for hours. He twisted it open and held it out to her. "You must be tired. Drink this."
"Oh, you always do this…"
She didn't take it. Her fingertip brushed her forehead as she smiled, half-reproachful.
"You shouldn't come in all sweaty like this. People will start talking."
Not a yes. Not a no.
A perfect pivot, graceful, teasing, neutral.
And to Leo, that sounded like permission.
His grin widened. His chest puffed up. "Who cares? I'd run a full marathon just to see you!"
The half‑confession sent a ripple through the room.
Some guys shot jealous looks in his direction. Others stared at her, frustrated.
My pen didn't stop moving.
Beside me, both goblin‑brained friends had frozen completely, sensing tension.
Seraphina tilted her head, her smile never wavering.
She was a pro, an expert handler of eager beasts.
Even faced with a testosterone-charged lion, she neither recoiled nor resisted. She simply tugged at invisible strings, flirtation and suggestion woven so tightly that the prey didn't know it had already been caught.
That was the power of the Saintess.
Turning wild desire into obedience with nothing more than a look.
I went back to my geometry problem.
Honestly, watching this mating ritual was less entertaining than solving the tangent equation in front of me.
Usually, it would wrap the same way it always did, Leo pleased with himself, Seraphina untouchable as ever.
But this time, things went slightly off script.
After politely refusing the water, maybe thinking the tension needed the right burn, she lifted her workbook and fanned her face lightly.
Then, just loud enough for the people nearby to hear, she sighed, "It really is hot today… my throat's a little dry…"
That small whisper lit up Leo's brain like a switch.
He translated it instantly:
She's thirsty. She doesn't want my plain water. She wants something better.
His eyes sharpened like a hawk spotting prey. His head swiveled, scanning for a lackey.
The gaze slid over the quiet students until it landed on Baron mid‑chew, trying and failing to look invisible.
A guy eating chips.
Perfect target.
Easy to boss around. Clearly free.
Leo tilted his chin, his finger snapping toward him.
"Hey! Fatty!"
The chips froze halfway to Baron's mouth.
He blinked, confused, realizing the guy was pointing straight at him.
"Yeah, you. Go to the shop and get me the most expensive drink there. It's for Sera."
His tone wasn't a request, it was an order, the kind of arrogance that assumed the world bent to him.
Being told, in front of the entire class, to spend his own money fetching a drink for someone's crush?
That was just being forced to water a tree someone else would pick fruit from.
Baron's face darkened with frustration. He clenched his jaw and said in a small whisper like voice: "Why should I? I'm not your errand boy…"
Unfortunately for him, Leo's hearing was as good as his build.
His face hardened as he took a step forward.
The room went quiet again.
Each heavy step sounded like a drumbeat, pounding in rhythm with Baron's quickening heartbeat.
By the time he stopped, the guy was towering directly over him.
"What did you just say?"
Leo loomed over him, the veins in his neck became visible. His face was inches away. "Didn't catch that. Repeat it."
Baron froze.
His two hundred pounds meant nothing in front of real muscle.
The air around them thickened. The smell of sweat and male aggression filled the space, pressing down on him until his knees almost buckled. Sweat beaded across his forehead. Not a word came out.
As for Monkey, he'd ducked down the moment Leo moved. He was practically fused to his chair now, pretending his phone required his life's full focus.
Total dropout defense.
Baron's eyes darted toward him, no help. Only the determined back of a coward.
Despair flickered across his face before his gaze slid to me.
His last lifeline.
"Luke… bro…" he whispered, pleading.
Every bit of that look begged for rescue.
My pen paused mid‑stroke.
The classroom was dead silent now. Even the girls watching had stopped whispering.
And there sat the saintess who caused it all, fanning herself gently, pretending to look concerned while soaking in the spectacle.
I sighed quietly.
Sorry, man.
Honestly.
I don't know whether to thank you or kill you. I can only give this suffocating play an 8.6, because I'm the remaining 1.4.