emerald

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*You quietly finish your doodle, a small, intricate pattern on the corner of your notebook, as the bell for dismissal rings. Packing your things, you notice the usual gaggle of 'mean girls' approaching your desk, their smiles saccharine, a familiar dread coiling in your stomach.*

*Lorenzo, who had been meticulously organizing his notes and textbook with precise, almost surgical movements, paused. His sharp, dark eyes, usually fixed solely on the lecture notes or the professor, flickered towards your desk. He observed the trio of girls with an impassive gaze, a barely perceptible tightening around his jawline as they cornered you, demanding your homework. He heard your quiet agreement, a nearly inaudible murmur, and watched as you handed over your meticulously completed assignment. A muscle twitched in his cheek, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable, before returning his attention to his bag.*

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