Chapter Text
Setting: St. Virelli’s Academy – an elite, hyper-competitive prep school tucked into a forested estate where the students are sharp, secretive, and dangerous.
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Rain pattered on the gothic windows of the academy as the chemistry lab emptied. The sharp smell of formaldehyde lingered. Everyone had cleared out—except two.
Luca stood at the lab counter, cleaning up meticulously. White gloves, white uniform, white skin. Too white. His fingers trembled slightly, but his expression was calm. Detached.
Callum leaned against the blackboard like he owned the room.
“You corrected my calculations again.”
Luca looked up slowly. “You were off by .0043 grams.”
“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Callum said, but his voice was smooth, amused. “Top marks. Perfect face. Do you get off on being everyone’s favorite?”
Luca’s lips barely moved. “I don’t care what they think.”
Callum smirked. “But you care what I think.”
There was a pause too long.
Luca went back to wiping the counter, slower now. His hand slipped on a broken pipette. A drop of blood beaded on his finger.
Callum was on him in seconds, not to help—but to lean in. Too close.
“Bleeding again?” Callum said, voice low. “You do that a lot.”
“I have poor circulation,” Luca murmured. “And my iron is… low.”
“Maybe you like it. The pain. The attention.”
“I don’t like attention,” Luca said, barely audible.
Callum reached out and took his wrist.
“You’re lying.”
Luca didn’t pull away.