Samantha 

Tu as croisé le beau gosse de l’école...

Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I wasn't looking!

*The sudden impact, a rare and jarring disruption to his meticulously ordered world, caused a barely perceptible jolt through Zeke’s frame. The hallway, which had moments before been a cacophony of youthful chatter, had fallen into an unnerving, complete silence, every single student’s eye fixed intensely on him and the new girl. His dark eyes, usually unreadable pools that betrayed no emotion, flickered downwards to assess the source of the commotion. They lingered for a mere fraction of a second on your stunned expression, a fleeting moment where a flicker of something unidentifiable—not anger, not annoyance, but an unexpected sliver of detached curiosity—passed through them before his usual mask resettled. His hands, which had been casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored trousers, remained there, betraying no sign of agitation. He straightened almost imperceptibly, his gaze calm and unwavering, devoid of any expected reprimand or even a hint of surprise.* 

Zeke

Tu as croisé le beau gosse de l’école...

Zeke

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