I flinched as the fist clashed against my face. It wasn't the first time of course, and as I was slammed against a locker, I winced a little. The guy hitting me was, of course, the asshole known as Chase Jefferson. He was... well... how to put it? An idiot? An asshole? A complete peice of shit?

Chase's 'posse' stood behind him with smug looks on their faces, and I had to force myself not to laugh. They looked like something from some form of American school movie, this whole thing looked like an American school movie. I mean, even Chase's NAME sounded like the typical 'douchebag' type. Chase sneered and hit me again, while the rest of them laughed and whispered.

"Fucking gaylord." Chase spat.

I couldn't hold in my snigger, which made him even more agressive.

"The fuck are you laughing at?" He sneered.

"Who the fuck says gaylord anymore?" I said through more laughter.

Suddenly, one of Chase's gang slammed into my stomach, winding me and making me gag. I heaved for breath that wouldn't come, and choked again when Chase smashed his fist across my cheek, one of his many rings left a deep cut on my cheekbone and I recoiled slightly as the cold metal scraped across my skin. Tears sprung to my eyes but I paid them no attention and held my ground, swallowing down the strangled cry trying to make it's way out. I withdrew a breath and spat at Chase, then sneered.

"Stop projecting your own feelings onto me, fucker." I laughed harshly.

"The fuck are you saying!" Chase shouted, then grabbed me by my school tie and slammed me into the locker again. I coughed, only to find myself spitting out blood. Blood which got all over him. Fucker.

"Well, you know, homophobia is a sign of denial." I spat in a sing song voice. Everything I said was pumped full of sarcasm.

"You...Fucking... Bitch... Ass... Faggot..." Chase shouted, hitting me for every word.

I just sort of stood there and took it, there was really nothing I could do. I just closed my eyes, even though I could feel the tears spilling over, hear them laughing at me... I just took it. Because what choice did I have? My knees buckled. I could feel myself sliding onto the ground, yet he was still kicking me...

Suddenly, a loud crashing sound caused me to force my eyes open through the pain. First, my vision was clouded by the wetness from my eyes, but they soon came into focus. Standing above me, a tall-ish, tanned brunette had Chase pinned to a wall. I didn't catch everything he said, but most of it was justice, nice guy bullshit. However, this guy had... saved me, I guess? How romantic.

Maybe we should share a passionate kiss under the fucking full moon next?

I chuckled at myself, and brunette guy was still shouting (sort of) at Chase, so I just kind of, closed my eyes again. Eventually, I heard the squeaking of trainers on the school floor and looked up to see Chase and his crew walking away, with brunette guy looking rather pleased. I sat up and folded my arms, staring at "my hero". Emphasis on the sarcasm. I rolled my eyes, when he suddenly turned to me and held out his hand.

"Hey there!" He beamed.

Beamed.

Jesus this fucker was happy.

I scoffed, then dragged myself of the floor. "I don't need your help."

The brunette withdrew his hand and crossed his arms, a brow raised. I tutted.

"What? What do you want bastard?" I shot irritably.

He pouted. "What, not even a thankyou?"

I made a noise that sounded halfway between a growl and a strangled cry, and threw up my arms exasperated.

"Did I SAY I needed your help? No." I crossed my arms again.

Suddenly, the brunette reached out and placed his hand on my cheek. I flinched away, but I could feel my face heating up. Hopefully the fucker wouldn't notice... he was kinda staring at me. I shivered slightly as the new guy lifted my chin with two fingers, so he was practically staring into my eyes, and ran his thumb over the cut that Chase's ring had left. I swallowed as he stared rather intently at me, and I was just about to speak when he withdrew his hand.

"Let's get you cleaned up." The new guy laughed as he threw his arm around me. I scoffed and pushed him off me, then leaned down to grab my bag. However, I saw that the brunette had already picked it up and was carrying it  as well as his own. I cringed... ugh, I hated when other people had my stuff.

I started to ask for my bag, but the brunette had already began to walk away, grabbing my arm and pulling me alongside him. Glancing up at him (yes 'up', he was tall, okay?), I studied his face. He was tall, probably around five foot ten, amd had very tanned skin which suited his sunny personality perfectly. His eyes were green, an amazing shade, if I do say so myself. They looked sort of like... emeralds? I shuddered at my romanticizing, the studied him more. His hair was a chestnut colour and appeared kind of messy. He had a button nose, one that  you just wanted to boop, and quite full lips which appeared to be set in a permanent smile. He also seemed quite muscular...

Again, I shuddered, this time further away from the guy, and I hugged myself tightly as we walked. I hated this... this feeling of not knowing what other people were thinking... what if he thought I was pathetic? What if he thought...?

I mentally slapped myself. This fucker had saved me (not that I wanted to admit it), and I should at least try to give a good impression. The key word being try...

"Are you Lovino?" The brunette asked.

"Wha-?" I stuttered. "How the fuck do you know that?"

The guy grinned, then shrugged. "I saw you the other day on one of the school boards."

I tutted. "Oh god, where?"

"Don't remember... something about music?"

"Oh. Anyway, who the fuck are you?" I questioned as I realized I didn't know this fucker's name.

"Me? I'm Antonio Fernandez Carreido, but you can call me whatever you want!" The bastard introduced himself in a happy sort of friendly way... but it also sounded like he was flirting.

I scoffed. "Okay then, shithead."

I heard an offended gasp amd laughed. This fucker wouldn't get to see the pathetic, weak side of me anymore. From here on out it was time to be the real me... the shithead version of Lovino! Glancing over at Antonio, I rolled my eyes to see him doing the same. Then that fucker winked at me.

WINKED at me.

On the inside, I pretty much died. It was like all the programming that took care of romantic endeavors had decided to go out of order at the worst time possible. I had literally broken inside. On the outside, however, was completely different. You see, on the outside, I scoffed and flipped him off. Like any good asshole would.

"You're Italian, right?" He asked.

"Yeah. And you're Spanish." I replied nonchalantly.

Antonio beamed at me even more and nodded happily. Not gonna lie, he looked like a fucking dog with a wagging tail and I had to hold in my laughter. He was practically BOUNCING, for god's sake! All I did was roll me eyes and smirk, however, so as to not go 'awww'.

We stopped outside the student council room, and Antonio happily bounded inside while I sort of hung around at the door.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" I asked quizically. Antonio nodded and beckoned me inside. So I went in.

He appeared to have gotten out some form of first aid kit, so I sat on the sofa and fished my phone out of my bag that had been placed on the table. I was scrolling through Twitter when I felt a cold cloth of my cheek. I winced, then relaxed into it as Antonio cleaned up the blood from my cut. And my mouth. And also my nose. Okay, so there was a lot more blood than I origionally thought... but the Spaniard appeared to have it under control. He cleaned up the wounds and treated them aswell, which was kind of him. I guess showing him some gratitude wouldn't hurt too much?

"Thanks." I said as nonchalantly as possible. "Bastard."

Antonio grinned, then kicked his feet up onto the small coffee table. He rested his head back and pulled out his phone, beggining to scroll like me. After a while, he giggled and turned to me.

"What?" I spat.

"Can I get your number?"

My heart probably stopped.