Miko's boots hit the linoleum with a lazy rhythm as she strolled down the hallway, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her worn leather jacket. The buzz of conversation around her barely registered—background noise, meaningless chatter from people who didn't matter. She knew what they thought of her. The rumors, the whispers—troublemaker, delinquent, heartbreaker.
Let 'em talk.
But her mind wasn't on the stares or the space that naturally cleared when she walked by. No. It was stuck on her.
Y/N.
God, she was too good for this place. Always polite, always smiling like she didn't know how magnetic she was. The kind of girl who probably did her homework early and helped teachers carry extra supplies without thinking twice. The kind of girl Miko knew she should stay away from.
But that smile? That laugh? That little breathy stutter when Miko leaned in close?
Yeah, no chance she was staying away.
Miko smirked to herself, the memory of Y/N's flushed cheeks playing over and over in her head like a favorite song. She hadn't expected her to talk back like that—"Are you always this persistent?" The words echoed in her mind, sharp and sweet all at once. Y/N had some bite hidden under that soft exterior. And that? That was dangerous.
But it also made her way too interesting to ignore.
She rounded the corner to the back stairwell, the place where the halls went quiet and no one bothered to look for her. Leaning against the cool concrete wall, Miko pulled a cigarette from her jacket—she didn't even light it, just rolled it between her fingers, a habit more about comfort than rebellion these days.
Her eyes drifted to the tattoos on her forearm—delicate lines of cherry blossoms intertwined with ancient Japanese buildings, the brushstroke kanji etched between them like secrets carved into her skin. Her story was inked into every line, every shadow. The things she couldn't say, didn't want to explain—they were all there.
She exhaled slowly, letting her head fall back against the wall.
What the hell am I doing?
Y/N wasn't the kind of girl who would fall for someone like her. Too good. Too clean. The type who deserved someone who wouldn't drag her into messes or make her question if she was making the right choice.
But that look Y/N gave her? The way her breath hitched when Miko got too close?
It wasn't fear.
It was curiosity.
And curiosity... that was something Miko knew how to work with.
See you around, sunshine. The words felt good on her tongue—easy, smooth—but beneath the confidence was a flicker of something she didn't want to admit. Interest? Maybe something worse.
Miko's fingers tightened around the unlit cigarette.
Yeah, she was going to see Y/N again.
And next time? She wasn't just going to leave her flustered in front of a locker.
Next time, she wanted to see what would happen if she pushed just a little further.
