Not An Appropriate Reaction

Not an appropriate reaction

He tugged on her long pony tail, hard enough that it made her head jerk back. He imagined doing that in bed, wrapping her long hair around his fist while he did unimaginable things to her.

The pretty girl spun on her heel, already ticked off by the relentless amounts of teasing and mocking Theo had been throwing at her that day. So, in a fit of rage she slapped him. Hard. In front of the whole school.

Theodores head snapped to the side at the force of the hit. He could feel his cheek stinging and he was sure it was turning red, his eyes were down cast and he lifted his hand to touch the sore spot.

"Fuck you, Nott." She spat, her own cheeks pink from the sudden adrenalin rush, but Theo didn't see it. He was too busy thinking about her skin on his.

She'd slapped him. Theodore Nott. She had slapped Theodore Nott who was notorious for not letting anyone get away with disrespecting him.

Around them everyone seemed to hold their breath. When Theo didn't respond the girl scoffed, rolled her eyes and walked away.

A smirk grew on Theos face, and something in his pants grew as well.

He'd liked that too much. The violence, the anger in her eyes. He knew he liked to tease and rile her up but he didn't think he liked it this much.

The Slytherin boy sauntered to his room, where he promptly scribbled out a note for the girl before sending it away.

The next morning, during breakfast in the great hall he watched for her reaction. Saw the way her cheeks reddened and a swallow worked it's way down her throat. Her eyes met his and he knew that the feeling was mutual.

Her eyes narrowed and he only smirked wider.

The things he'd do to that girl were endless.

Mattheo snd your titties. Thats it.

Oh, do you mean his pillows? Because my boy will just snuggle right in between them and fall asleep IMMEDIATELY and it's the best sleep he ever gets

He has no shame whatsoever

He's talking with friends? Hand on titty.

He's studying? Hand on titty.

Will stare at your tits whenever he can and he won't deny it if you call him out

Let him jack off on your tits PLEASE I BEG OF YOU—

(he wouldn't even last a minute)

Good Traits Gone Bad

Exploring good traits gone bad in a novel can add depth and complexity to your characters. Here are a few examples of good traits that can take a negative turn:

1. Empathy turning into manipulation: A character with a strong sense of empathy may use it to manipulate others' emotions and gain an advantage.

2. Confidence becoming arrogance: Excessive confidence can lead to arrogance, where a character belittles others and dismisses their opinions.

3. Ambition turning into obsession: A character's ambition can transform into an unhealthy obsession, causing them to prioritize success at any cost, including sacrificing relationships and moral values.

4. Loyalty becoming blind devotion: Initially loyal, a character may become blindly devoted to a cause or person, disregarding their own well-being and critical thinking.

5. Courage turning into recklessness: A character's courage can morph into reckless behavior, endangering themselves and others due to an overestimation of their abilities.

6. Determination becoming stubbornness: Excessive determination can lead to stubbornness, where a character refuses to consider alternative perspectives or change their course of action, even when it's detrimental.

7. Optimism becoming naivety: Unwavering optimism can transform into naivety, causing a character to overlook dangers or be easily deceived.

8. Protectiveness turning into possessiveness: A character's protective nature can evolve into possessiveness, where they become overly controlling and jealous in relationships.

9. Altruism becoming self-neglect: A character's selflessness may lead to neglecting their own needs and well-being, to the point of self-sacrifice and burnout.

10. Honesty becoming brutal bluntness: A character's commitment to honesty can turn into brutal bluntness, hurting others with harsh and tactless remarks.

These examples demonstrate how even admirable traits can have negative consequences when taken to extremes or used improperly. By exploring the complexities of these traits, you can create compelling and multi-dimensional characters in your novel.

Happy writing!

Romantic/soft prompts:

By @me-writes-prompts

Sickfic prompts

'Affectionate gestures that have me going feral' prompts

Cuddling prompts

'Adorable things couples do that have me feeling single af' prompts

Sweet caring prompts

Sickfic prompts 2

"I've had a really rough day and I need you to make it better" otp soft prompts

Cute smile prompts

Fluff prompts

"You're so cute when you…" prompts

Lazy morning prompts

Late night prompts

Embarrassing first meet prompts

Domestic fluff prompts

Kisses prompts:

By @me-writes-prompts

Kissing prompts

First kiss prompts

Repent.

✩ Tom Riddle x F! Reader

Summary: The one where Tom is confronted by the golden girl of Hogwarts, and he confronts a rather ugly truth. Hatred and desire are very similar things, and Tom can’t tell which one he feels. Alternatively: As Hosier once said “The only Heaven i’ll be sent to, is when i’m alone with you.”

A/N: GRRR WOOF WOOF WOOF

Maybe smut in p2 if people want it?

Songs: Talk - Hozier

The elder Riddle boy found it ridiculous to think he’d be standing here, promoting the very school he had subjected to many terrors, schmoozing with the same snobby, stuck-up wizards and witches for hours on end. His mouth ached from being held in a permanent welcoming smile, and the corners of his lips turned upwards in an uncharacteristic manner.

The role of Head Boy came with countless benefits. For one, he was adored and respected by many, something that was absolutely vital to Tom. Similarly, it also helped preserve his image greatly. No one would question Tom if he was roaming the halls late at night, for he was simply upholding his duties. It became an excellent cover for his now frequent trips to the restricted section of the Library.

There were other less beneficial but still preferable upsides. He got his own room, as the Head boy and the Head girl got their own private quarters. He could be excused from meaningless activities such as the mandatory health education days, if he convinced Headmaster Dippet that his time would be better spent elsewhere. Truthfully, there weren't many negatives to being Head Boy.

Having to spend his valuable holiday time dressed in a rather suffocating suit, promoting Hogwarts as one of the best schools to new prospective parents, was not a part of his role that Tom enjoyed. But if this is the small inconvenience he would have to put up with twice in his one year as Head student, then so be it.

There was, of course, you. That was perhaps the worst part of the job. Having to work alongside you. Tom loathed you, more than he did the average person.

You pranced into the school, having only joined in the 6th year. Within a week of your arrival, the teachers could not stop raving about the prodigy that they had the pleasure of teaching. Your hand shot up before Tom’s, and your marks were almost always higher by 1 damned percent. It wasn’t just enough that you had stolen Tom’s spotlight, no, you made sure you were front and centre in every field. Tom excelled in academics, you excelled in everything. From sports to extracurriculars, no one stood a chance if you were there.

But perhaps what infuriated Tom the most, was that you were nice. People adored you, and you naturally managed to captivate everyone with a sort of charisma that had teachers and students alike stumbling over one another for the chance to speak with you. You had it all, with absolutely no flaws.

Tom didn’t have a valid reason to hate you. With the others, he could attribute his hatred to their foolishness, their stupidity, or their overall incompetence. But you? There was nothing. It was irrational to hate you - the golden girl of Hogwarts, and that was what infuriated him more. It betrayed every rule he held himself to; he always had to be logical and meticulous.

Tom seethed inwardly as he watched you effortlessly charm yet another set of parents, your smile radiant and your words smooth as silk. He couldn't deny your talent or your intelligence, but it grated on him nonetheless. You were a constant reminder of everything he wanted to be but couldn't quite attain.

It wasn't just the fact that you outshone him in every aspect; it was the way you did it with such ease, as if it were effortless for you to excel in every endeavour. Meanwhile, Tom had to meticulously plan and scheme for every bit of recognition he received, always calculating his next move to stay ahead.

His eyes rake down your form, taking in the deep red dress that you wore. No doubt the finest silk draped over your body, a sort of blood red that caught under the dim lights of the chandeliers. Drawing the eye and commanding attention wherever you went, the fabric flowed gracefully around your figure, accentuating your curves in all the right places without revealing too much.

You were undeniably stunning, yet another thing to add to a list of your perfections. You handled the disgustingly leering eyes of the elder Wizards, who came to talk to you, with grace.

A damned Gryffindor too, as though your very presence wasn’t offensive enough.

Gods, he hated you. He really did. Your mere presence was enough to set him on edge, a fire burning through his veins that could never seem to be quenched no matter how hard he tried. He runs a hand through his lightly gelled hair, walking over to the far side of the Great Hall. With the rest of the attendees being otherwise engaged in conversation, he grabs a glass of champagne, knuckles white as he grips the delicate glass stem and drains it in one go. He sets the glass back down and sighs before plastering a fake smile on his face, manoeuvring through the crowd.

As Headmaster Dippet ascended the small stage at the front of the great hall, a hush fell over the crowd. He cleared his throat, adjusting his spectacles before addressing the gathered guests.

"Good evening, esteemed colleagues, parents, and students," he began, his voice carrying easily across the room. "I would like to extend a warm welcome to each and every one of you to our annual open evening here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The assembled guests murmured their acknowledgements, and Headmaster Dippet continued, his tone warm and welcoming.

"We are delighted to have the opportunity to showcase the many wonders of our esteemed institution to you all," he said, gesturing expansively to the grand surroundings of the great hall. "From our esteemed faculty to our talented students, Hogwarts prides itself on providing a world-class education in the magical arts."

A ripple of polite applause echoed through the hall, and Headmaster Dippet smiled warmly before continuing.

"I would like to take this opportunity to express my deepest gratitude to all of our dedicated staff and volunteers who have worked tirelessly to make this evening possible," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd. "Their commitment and dedication to our beloved school are truly commendable, and we owe them a debt of gratitude for their efforts."

Another round of applause filled the air, and Headmaster Dippet nodded in appreciation before raising his hand for silence once more.

"And now, my dear guests, I invite you to partake in the festivities," he said, his tone lighthearted. "Our talented orchestra awaits to serenade you with their delightful melodies, and I encourage you to take to the dance floor and enjoy the evening's entertainment to the fullest."

With a final smile and a gracious bow, Headmaster Dippet stepped down from the stage, leaving the guests to mingle and enjoy the rest of the evening's festivities.

You look over at Tom and find he’s already looking at you, a shift in his gaze when you lock eyes with him. You see him sigh, and motion to the large area of floor which had been dedicated to dancing. The very face of the school, the two of you step up, and dark green clashes with deep red, the serpent and the lion front and centre. Your hand finds his, cold and unwelcoming, and his other comes down to rest on your waist, fingers brushing against silk.

The melodic hum of the violins echo through the hall, watchful eyes on the two of you. Your steps were hesitant at first. Gradually, as you found your footing, your movements became more fluid, if not entirely harmonious.

“Smile, Riddle. At least make it seem like you’re happy to be here.” You mutter lowly, only for his ears. He clenches his jaw, but ultimately he knows you are, as always, right. A small smile graces his lips, looking down at you as he speaks harshly under his breath.

“I’m not happy to be here.” He snaps, and a smirk tugs at your lips as the two of you continue dancing, harshly whispering to one another.

Tom's eyes bore into yours with a fierce intensity, his jaw clenched in barely restrained anger. Yet, despite the tension that simmered between you, you refused to back down, meeting his gaze with a lazy smirk of your own.

"Is that so, Riddle?" you retorted, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with undeniable challenge. "Because it seems to me like you're doing a splendid job of pretending." You quip sarcastically.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress with a forceful urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Tom's lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with venom as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he hissed, each word punctuated by a sharp edge of contempt. "But you can't hide your true nature forever, no matter how hard you try. I'm just waiting for the day that perfect facade of yours crumbles.”

Your smirk only widened at his words, a glint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you leaned back slightly, meeting his intense gaze with a challenging one of your own.

"Ah, but dear Tom," you countered, your voice silky smooth despite the tension crackling between you. "I don't need to hide anything. Unlike some people, I don't have dark secrets."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

You simply chuckled, a sound filled with smug satisfaction as you leaned in to whisper your reply. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Riddle," you murmured, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all, it's not like your plans are a well-kept secret."

For a split second, Tom froze, his eyes widening in surprise before a mask of cold indifference settled over his features. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he snapped, his tone icy as he pulled away from you, his grip on your waist loosening slightly.

“Oh of course not. I’m all the more intrigued to see how it will all play out.” You hum, an infuriatingly smug grin on your face as you look up at him, as bold and blunt as you've ever been.

Tom must admit he’s somewhat suprised. You seemed so demure and polite, he had never expected such directness from yourself.

The song comes to a close, everyone applauding as you meet Tom’s stare head-on, refusing to break away. You go to walk away when his hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him with terrifying force as the orchestra begins playing once more, with everyone else joining in.

The sudden tug at your waist caught you off guard, your breath hitching as you found yourself pulled back into Tom. His grip was firm, almost possessive.

"What do you think you're doing, Riddle?" you demanded, your voice tinged with a hint of apprehension as you struggled against his hold.

But Tom's expression remained impassive, his eyes boring into yours with a steely resolve that sent a chill down your spine. "Dancing," he replied curtly, his tone clipped as he held you close, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

He leans in closer, breath fanning against your ear as he speaks.

"You do realize you're playing with fire, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.

“I’m not afraid of being burned.” You remark back quickly, meeting his frustrated gaze with a teasing one of your own.

Tom's lips quirked into a sardonic smile at your response, a flash of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Perhaps you should be," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with a warning tone.

You let go of Tom as the music comes to a close and he doesn't immediately pull you back. You look at him for a second more before tearing your gaze away and disappearing into the crowd.

Silly, silly girl.

Tom pursues straight after you, murmuring half-assed apologies to the couples he shoves past. The serpent slithers through the crowd, far in over his head, desperate for a glimpse of that red.

As Tom finally catches sight of you weaving through the throngs of people, his frustration mounts, fueled by the relentless desire to confront you. Without a second thought, he pushes past the last couple blocking his path and quickens his pace, determination etched into every line of his face.

"[Name]!" he calls out, his voice cutting through the din of the crowd. But you don't stop, your figure disappearing around a corner just ahead.

Refusing to be thwarted, Tom breaks into a sprint, his heart pounding in his chest as he closes the distance between you. Finally reaching the corner, he turns sharply, only to find you standing just a few feet away, your back pressed against the cold stone wall of the corridor.

A smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you watch him approach. "What's the matter, Riddle?" you taunt, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Can't keep up?"

Tom's jaw clenches, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

You tilt your head to the side, a mocking smile playing on your lips. "I don't have to think, Riddle," you reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "I know."

A flicker of annoyance flashes across Tom's features, but he quickly masks it with a cold indifference. "You may be clever, but you're also reckless," he retorts, his voice icy as he takes a step closer, crowding your space.

"And you're one to talk," you shoot back, your voice laced with a challenge.

Without warning, Tom closes the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist with a forceful grip.

Before you can react, he's dragging you down the corridor, his steps purposeful as he leads you to the nearest empty classroom. You stumble along beside him, caught off guard by his sudden aggression.

He shoves open the door, pulling you inside with him as your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, fumbling around for a desk as Tom slams the door shut, He turns to you, breathing heavily as he takes a step forward, forcing you to back up into the desk behind you.

“What do you know.” He utters, voice low as he clenches his jaw.

"I know enough," you reply evenly, meeting his intense gaze with unwavering defiance. "I know that you're not as invincible as you think you are. Though you’re certainly trying to get to that point."

A flicker of anger flashes across Tom's features, his eyes narrowing as he takes another step closer, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. "You know nothing," he retorts sharply, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

You should feel ashamed, you should avert your eyes, but you cannot help but feel thrilled at the sight of Tom so angry, a familiar flutter in your stomach as he looks away, his jaw clenched.

The corner of your lips turn upwards into a provocative grin, tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip.

Tom lets his gaze stray downwards for one second and he knows he’s fucked.

Completely and utterly done for. He’s fallen for the most stupidly infuriating, brainless, primal emotion of them all. Tom Riddle, who is smart, manipulative, and cunning, has lost his cool because of lust.

How utterly pathetic.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling with a mixture of disgust and arousal. He hates you, despises every fibre of your being, and yet, that only seems to fuel the fire burning inside him.

You remain silent, observing him carefully as you are not privy to his innermost thoughts.

For a moment, there's a palpable silence between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. And then, without warning, Tom's hand shoots out, grabbing your chin with a bruising grip as he forces you to meet his gaze.

"You don't know anything," he hisses, his voice low and dangerous.

You don't have the time to even think of a response because Tom’s lips are crashing onto yours, replacing every single thought in your head with him and him only.

It's more angry than it is anything else, mouths clashing against one another in a punishing kiss. His grip on your jaw is bruising, a stray hand coming down to rest against the curve of your thigh and push you up so you're sitting on the desk.

He kisses you with fervour, as though he’s trying to steal the oxygen from your lungs and snuff the life out of those damn eyes.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer as you meet his kiss with fervour, your lips moving against his with a desperate need that borders on reckless abandon.

“Tom,” You murmur, a gasped plea as your nails dig into his bicep. He pays it no mind, lips coming down to press open-mouthed kisses to your throat.

It's maddening, the way you've managed to unravel him with just a glance, a touch, leaving him stripped bare and vulnerable in your presence.

But even as he loses himself in the heat of the moment, a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminds him of the danger you represent. You know things, dangerous things, secrets that could unravel everything he's worked so hard to achieve. And yet, in this moment, none of it matters.

His rationale and will is eroded to nothing, consumed by the need to possess you fully.

Your hand wraps around his tie, tugging him slightly as you lean back, breaking the kiss. You gaze down at him, green tie wrapped tightly around your hand, and Tom wants to groan at the interruption, though he refuses to give you the satisfaction of doing so.

“Lust is a sin, you know?” You hum, lips slightly swollen and red as you keep Tom in place, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Tom didn’t care. He wasn’t religious. He didn’t believe in God. Tom didn't care about the concept of heaven and hell either. If being with you meant risking damnation, he was more than willing to take that chance.

“So is Lying. Greed. Hatred. Jealousy.” You list, tugging at Tom's tie with each word, pulling him lower and lower until he’s the one looking up at you. You lean back on your palms, crossing your legs as you narrow your eyes.

“Quite the sinner, aren’t you?” You hum, your voice laced with amusement.

Tom is done for, looking up at you with his mind filled with nothing but a visceral need for you.

“Perhaps.” He mutters, his voice strained.

He reaches out for you but you tut, placing a heel on his shoulder as you forcefully push him down, forcing him onto his knees in front of you with his tie still grasped firmly in your hand. The action causes your dress to slip slightly where the slit occurs in the side, revealing a glimpse of your skin so close to Tom’s face that he can’t tear his eyes off of it. A devious grin graces your face, tilting your head as you pull your plush lip between your teeth.

“Do you believe I won’t get into heaven?” Tom murmurs, stupidly playing into this game of yours as he looks up at you.

You laugh, low and mocking as you look down at him.

“Oh Tom, at the rate you’re going at I’ll be the closest you ever get to paradise.”

Tom may have been strong, but he was only human, and mankind was prone to crumble in the face of temptation.

“What do you suggest I do then?” He growls, his voice a low rumble filled with frustration and desire. You smirk down at him, relishing in the power you hold over him, knowing that you've managed to unravel the facade of control he presents to the world. With a flick of your wrist, you release his tie from your grasp, allowing it to fall limply against his chest.

Your heel remains as it is, pressing down firmly on his shoulder to ensure he remains in the same position as you speak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Repent.”

Repentance is not something he's accustomed to, nor is it something he's ever considered. But in this moment, with you holding all the cards, he finds himself willing to entertain the notion, if only to appease the insatiable hunger gnawing at his soul.

@schaebickel @mildlyuninformative @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @lillywildly @multifandom-worlds

i love you , its ruining my life!! // lorenzo berkshire x fem hufflepuff reader

playlist : fortnight - taylor swift

summary : lorenzo berkshire is so completely infatuated with a girl in hufflepuff , its ruining his life!!

y/n used , hufflepuff reader , ttpd was amazing, fluff

a/n : im the queen of slytherin boys x hufflepuff reader lets be honest ,also fortnight is a sad song but i did a different take on it bc fluff is just better !! LMAO

its been three months since the very first time lorenzo berkshire saw you in class. he had never seen you before despite your presence being a constant since 1st year, and to say you hadnt gone unseen since was an understatement.

lorenzo berkshire has found himself in nothing but trouble since his little crush on you first blossomed , the very first time he saw you , that fateful day in potions - he had lost 20 points for slytherin in one lesson. and the reasons for his points deduction was simple , he just couldnt focus.

you pushed your hair behind your ear , he dropped his ink pot onto the floor , the loud smash interrupting snapes monotone first lesson back speech.

five points.

you laughed at something your male seat partner said , lorenzo clenched his fist so hard that he snapped his quill as the ink and snapped up feather made a mess of his desk.

five points.

you spoke to lorenzos best friend , theodore , making him misplace an ingredient into his cauldron that caused it to explode back into draco -his seat partner and friends- face.

ten points.

to say his friends and whole house were infruriated with him after that ,was an understatment - enzo had gotten them into points debt on the very first day. thats never even been done before!

but they were even angrier with him a few weeks ago.

it was the day of the highly anticipated , very first, gryffindor vs slytherin match of the year - and enzo bottled it because he was looking at you in the stands.

who could blame him! you were stood in the stands wearing a slytherin scarf with the number 13 on your cheek in green face paint , his number!!

the amount of quaffles he failed to catch and goals he missed completely because of his focus being elsewhere , became too much to count by the end of the match. that slytherin lost by the way.

but even when draco screamed in his face and theodore pushed him into the changing rooms , his mind couldnt leave your happy face as you watched him - and only him.

the most recent incident was when he sat in an exam , not writing a single word because he couldnt stop thinking about how you smiled at him and said hello to him earlier that day. he tried to play it off as hufflepuff friendliness but the red tint in your cheeks and beaming smile blocked out any thought of doubt - and charms knowledge.

that charms test was the first fail he has ever gotten at hogwarts.

all because of you and your pretty stupid smile!

as he stared down at his paper a week later with a horified expression and a sympathetic pansy rubbing his back , he decided enough was enough , he needed to get this off his chest.

so later that day he now found himself sat in the great hall , staring at where you usually sit , except the spot was empty.

his leg bounced under the table as he played with his hands and tie , loosening and re-loosening it every two seconds.

"lorenzo please stop." pansy begged with her head in her hands , trying to will the sound of lorenzos tapping foot to become white noise.

snapping out of it he stopped all movement and looked down with a somber sigh , maybe something happened to you? maybe youre avoiding him? maybe you hate him? maybe youre not hungry?

"enzo chill mate shes just walked in." theodore said looking at something - or someone - by the enterance to the great hall.

without sparing a seond enzo stormed over to you , grabbing your hand softly and stopping your walk to the hufflepuff table.

"please come with me," enzo said as more of a command as you nodded with concern and followed him out the hall and to an empty corridor.

he stopped you so you were stood against the wall and began to pace.

after many seconds of silence you began to question why you were there ,"lorenz-"

"i love you, and its ruining my life!!" he said loudly , stopping in his tracks staring at you , not with anger but instead despiration.

he now stepped forward as you stepped back and hit the wall , "ive lost points , matches , i failed my test for the first time ever!.....please. please say no and let me move on."

you stared up at him in complete shock , "lorenzo you dont know me-"

"i do. oh trust me i do , i know you prefer cats and like muggle classics as well as poetry. your favourite colour is yellow but you dont really tell anyone as to not be called a stereotypical hufflepuff. and...i know theres things i dont know but there is nothing else on this planet i want to learn more about, than you."

you began to beam your signature smile up at him , bringing your arms to wrap around his neck as he melted under your touch, "i failed charms too."

it was his turned to now be confused , "but charms is your favourite?-"

"there was this really handsome guy sat in front of me who i just couldnt stop looking at. he was distracting me."

lorenzo expression fell as his heart broke slowly , "w-who?..."

you looked at him teasingly , "seriously? you enzo!"

he let out a gasp of realisation as you pulled him down towards you for a kiss.

lets just say since that day you both got straight As! but thats not to say enzo doesnt still like to admire in lesson.