She doesn't expect him to show up.

It's—it's Sandejas, for God's sake. Whatever possessed him to come up to her in the library and to actually walk her to her dorm room will not possess him again.

He hates her.

He's in the same year as her and he's been sneering at her since they were freshmen, and sure, let's not forget the idiotic crush she's had on him. That first day they had a class together, he was just beautiful in his plain black shirt and jeans and perfect white-blonde hair, skin as pale as snow, and the brightest blue eyes she's ever seen. Freshman Blaise could not take her eyes off his sharp and perfectly-structured face and she was blushing.

Too bad he was a prick when she stood so fast her foot caught on the leg of her chair. Blaise would have fallen flat on her face had she not caught herself on Yvo's desk...where he was still sitting, face inches from hers.

He wore a bored expression as he stared at her. He didn't say anything, but that's the thing with Yvo Sandejas—he doesn't have to. His fucking face is enough.

And it told her she was some—some germ that dirtied his fucking table and things. Like she offended him.

But he's been staring at her this year. Start of the term. Blaise can feel his eyes burning at the side of her head during first period, and when she turns around to leave, he's already ready to meet her gaze, sitting lazily while he chewed on his gum or sucked on his candy. He watches her leave, too.

Whatever. Now that Blaise kissed him (...fuck), she's sure he'll leave her alone. The asshole can't stand to be within ten minutes of her.

Whatever sick and vile curiosity that ass wanted to sate about her kissing abilities, he's got it.

Doesn't matter if she wants to do it again.

Blaise leaves her desk, ties her hair up in a bun and puts on a bra under her school hoodie, grabbing her wallet and phone off the table. She opens her dorm room and almost screams, half of it outside her throat before she slaps a hand to her mouth and crashes into the doorway before her body can fall into Yvo's.

He raises an eyebrow.

Her heart is barely functioning. Blaise puts a hand to her chest and glares at him. "What the hell are you doing camping outside my room at noon?"

Yvo's eyebrows scrunch together as his eyes pass through her body, clearly noticing she's not dressed and ready like he is. She feels her cheeks heat when they stay particularly long at her legs. "You said lunch," he bites out through his teeth when his eyes meet hers again.

Blaise blinks. "Wh—"

He turns around to leave.

"Sandejas!" She grasps his sleeve before he can take another step, and thank God he stops, turning to her slowly. "I didn't—I didn't think you'd actually show up. I wasn't expecting you at all."

Yvo's jaw tightens. Blaise's hand falls away his sleeve, and she clears her throat, backing up.

She's always tried her hardest to level his glares with her own, sneer at him and snap at him whenever he does because he's fucking infuriating, but she won't deny that she's always been a little afraid of him.

Intimidated. Blaise doesn't know what to do or what to say or how to act. He doesn't talk, doesn't like wasting saliva (unless it's to kiss her...), and he's—well, he's a giant. He's around 6'2, for fuck's sake, her own neck strained to reach him when she kissed him.

She didn't...she was surprised with the gentleness of his kiss. She thought he'd be aggressive, but he was soft and unsure, but eager and...greedy—but not in a selfish way. Almost like he just wanted...more. He might even be impatient if the kiss went on longer. Blaise isn't sure how she'd handle that if that happened.

She'd probably let him do anything he wants to do with her.

"Let me change," Blaise mutters, looking at her feet. "Um, give me ten minutes. You can wait in the common room."

She runs inside her room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She throws open her closet doors and begins ravaging it.

Thank God she already showered.

Blaise settles on a cropped yellow halter top and denim jeans, rolling them up to her ankles. She puts on a simple gold necklace and earrings, her fingers shaking so much that she almost makes new holes in her ears, and fastens her watch to her wrist. Blaise lets her hair fall loose after brushing it, and because she has no time for makeup, she only puts on tint to her cheeks and lips and hopes that it's enough.

Slipping on her sneakers, she shoulders her bag and runs back into the common room, heart lodged in her throat.

Yvo is seated on one of the chairs, manspreading like he always fucking does which does things to her stomach, and Blaise expects him to sit there until she comes to him like the asshole that he is.

But he stands up as soon as he sees her, no scowl or glare or mocking expression on his face. He towers over her and she almost cowers, but she swallows thickly and steps forward, closer to him. She can smell his cologne.

"Sorry," Blaise tells him, ignoring the many looks thrown their way. This was her idea, damn it. "Um, shall we?"

He nods once and steps aside, letting her pass through first.

Blaise lets herself look at him briefly as they walk together. He's only wearing a sweater in gray with the sleeves a bit rolled up his arms and jeans, but why, why is her stomach doing flip-flops?

She's always known he's attractive, for God's sake, anyone with eyes can say so. It's also not a secret how many eyes stare at him when he walks in a room or when he's sitting in a classroom, and the asshole knows he's the subject of every wet dream.

Blaise is not going to be a saint and say except hers, because she's had countless dreams of the prick no matter how awful he is, just him manhandling her and just...

She shudders. But that's all they were—dreams. As if real Yvo Sandejas would want to lay a hand on her.

But he did. Yesterday. On her hip. She felt it until she drifted off to sleep.

It's almost like the whole restaurant shut up when they walk in. Blaise wants to roll her eyes as she and Yvo find a table near the corner.

"They think you're on a date with me," she says as soon as they've ordered.

He leans back against the couch. "Aren't I? And don't act like this wasn't your plan."

The corner of her lips quirks up. "Well, I know public declarations aren't your thing."

Yvo raises an eyebrow, watching her. "So I just have to show everyone I'm interested in you? More dates?"

Blaise shrugs, stirring her straw around her soda. "I haven't decided yet."

He scoffs lowly and taps his fingers on the table.

Blaise doesn't know what else to say.

When their food arrives, Yvo asks quietly, "Why didn't you think I'd show up?"

She shrugs, chewing her food and swallowing it before answering, "I thought your sick curiosity had already been sated. I mean, you probably just wanted to know why anyone would kiss me."

He stares at her, his mouth and throat moving. Jesus. Even the way he eats is godly. "It's not."

Blaise raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Sated." Yvo shoves a forkful of meat in his mouth and chews, eyes on hers.

"Really."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Blaise's eyebrows furrow. He's right. He is here.

Yvo is too fucking proud and arrogant to let her do this to him, but he is, and though she's unwilling to admit it, she knows it took a lot out of him to come up to her in the library and say that he wants to kiss her.

He grabs the check before she can pull her wallet out and slaps a few bills in there, follows her and buys her a cone of ice cream. Blaise tries really, really hard to pretend she doesn't notice him staring at her mouth.

Yvo walks her back to the dorm, hands in his pockets, slowing his steps because his legs are large.

Blaise turns around to face him. "Thanks."

Yvo nods once, standing there.

Blaise resists the urge to grin. He looks like a puppy waiting for his treat.

Who would have thought she'd have some kind of power over Yvo Sandejas?

"Lean down, you're too tall."

He immediately bends down, bright blue eyes wide and expectant.

Blaise grins, unable to resist it, and gives him a quick kiss, pressing their lips together.  Yvo has barely closed his eyes before Blaise pulls away. "See you in class," she sings, closing the door in his face.

"I think I like Charlie DeMarco. I'm not sure though."

Blaise twists around in shock, holding a hand to her heart, meeting her best friend Dane Kallhoff's expressionless face as he lounges on her bed.

She blinks. "Charlie?"

"He gives me butterflies. First man to do so." Dane hops up from the bed and raises an eyebrow. "And you? Did I just see Jonathan Yvo fucking Sandejas kiss you?"

Blaise presses herself against the door, lips curving into a smile. "Oh, I have a lot to tell you."