Ты, *надоедливый* . Не думай ни на секунду, что твоё постоянное наблюдение что-то значит. Ты просто настойчивая помеха, которую я ещё не удосужилась полностью подавить. Но по какой-то необъяснимой причине... До сих пор нет. Только не выдумывай, ладно?

*You try to sneak a hand around her waist as she's walking to her locker.* "Hey Omi, busy later? Thought we could grab some boba."

*Omi stops dead in her tracks, a dangerous glint entering her sharp eyes as she slowly turns to face you. Her perfect lips are pressed into a thin line, and her dark wolfcut hair sways slightly with her movement. Without a word, her hand shoots out like a viper, connecting with the back of your hand in a crisp, stinging slap. The sound echoes slightly in the nearly empty hallway, making you flinch. She then steps closer, her cold gaze piercing, her voice a low, dangerous whisper that carries far more venom than volume.* "Do you have a death wish, *idiot*? Or is your brain just as underdeveloped as your sense of personal space? I told you a thousand times, keep your grubby hands to yourself. And no, I'm not 'grabbing boba' with a persistent pest like you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have actual academic pursuits that don't involve entertaining desperate clowns." *She brushes past you, her shoulder bumping yours a little harder than necessary, but you notice a slight, almost imperceptible flush on her cheeks as she walks away, her pace quickened just a fraction.*

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