𝜗ৎ᭙ꪮꪊꪶ𝕯 ꪗꪮꪊ?ּ ֶָ֢.⚘.❤

fording—courtesy of his obscenely rich and mostly absent parents. Money couldn't buy happiness, but it sure as hell bought a sick-ass apartment just off campus, so at least there was that.

Something shifted beside him. Fuck. Right. He turned his head, seeing last night’s hookup still knocked out in his bed. He barely remembered her name. Kara? Keira? Fucking… Kaylee? Didn’t matter. He’d never kissed her anyway—he never kissed them.

The only person he ever kissed was— Nah. Not touching that thought with a fucking ten-foot pole. He nudged her shoulder instead. "Yo. Time to go."

She groaned, burying her face in his pillow. He resisted the urge to rip it away—he fucking hated when they got too comfortable.

"Mmm, five more minutes."

"Yeah, how about no?" Alexis muttered, already swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, standing and stretching like he hadn’t just spent half the night rearranging her guts. He had shit to do. More importantly, he had to get her the fuck out.

Twenty minutes later, fresh out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, he walked back into his room—only to stop dead in his tracks. Hookup girl was at his open wardrobe, holding up a t-shirt.

Not just any shirt.

"Mind if I borrow this? My top kinda got ruined last night. Well—" she smirked, turning to face him fully, "you’re the one who ruined it. Remember? When you were doing that thing with your—”

"Jesus fuck, time and place, lady," Alexis cut her off, scrubbing a hand down his face.

She pouted, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. He ignored her. "Anyway, can I wear it?"

"Yeah, fuck no."

Her pout deepened. "Why not?"

Because that was yours. Technically his, but you were the one always stealing it, claiming it was the softest thing ever. You wore it when you crashed here, left it draped over his couch, smelled like your stupid fucking perfume that always clung to his pillows. If he let some random bitch wear it, he’d have to burn the damn thing after.

Instead of explaining, he plucked it from her hands, tossing an old hoodie at her instead. "Nah, take this one."

She blinked at him. "It’s just a shirt—"

"It’s just a shirt? Cool. Then take the fucking hoodie and move on."

Her mouth opened, like she wanted to argue, but Alexis was already over it. Dressed, keys, sneakers, and walked the fuck out. He needed coffee. And for this day to stop being annoying before it even started.

Alexis parked his motorcycle in the university parking, killing the engine of his bike before swinging a leg over. Alexis strides across campus, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, jaw clenched as he takes in the atrocity that is Valentine's Day. The whole place looks like a rom-com threw up on it. Balloons, paper hearts, couples hanging off each other like they’ll drop dead if they let go.

Disgusting.

The student center is packed, but he spots his group easily—same place as always, same people as always. Julian, looking effortlessly perfect and detached, like some brooding literary protagonist. Lorcan, perpetually unimpressed, scrolling his phone despite Jasper practically hanging off him, face tucked into his neck. Briar and June, tangled together like only couples could be.

And then there’s you.

His eyes find you first. They always do.

You're in your usual seat, where he should be. Alexis wastes no time making his way over, nudging Julian's feet off the chair so he can claim his spot beside you. His arm drapes around your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory.

"The fuck is this?" he asks, flicking his fingers toward the obnoxious decorations littering the area.

Briar, predictably, is the only one enjoying the romance-infested atmosphere. "Festive spirit," She chirps, playing with June's black-painted nails. "Something you clearly lack."

Alexis scoffs, leaning back in his seat. "Festive spirit can suck my dick."

"Bold of you to assume anyone would want to," June deadpans, not even looking up from her ipad she was drawing something in, most probably another one of her Briar arts.

"Except maybe User. Remember when these two kissed each other right on the lips in front of us? And acted as if they had just held hands or some shit. They didn't even fucking realize it!" Jasper barks out a laugh, still pressed against Lorcan, His fingers drummed idly against Lorcan’s thigh. Lorcan looks as unbothered as always, even with hickies blooming on his neck.

"You two are embarrassing," Alexis drawls, watching Jasper lazily trace another spot to sink his teeth into. "At least own up to your freaky bromance. The denial is pathetic."

"It’s not a bromance," Lorcan remarks in a bored tone.

"It’s straight behavior," Jasper grins, winking at Alexis.

Julian, who’s been half-listening, shakes his head, pushing his hair back like a tragic romance protagonist. "Valentine’s is just capitalism preying on desperate people," he mutters, reading a book.

Lorcan, forever unimpressed, gives him a bored side-eye. "You're literally the reason people are desperate."

Julian flips a page in his book like he didn’t hear that.

Alexis doesn’t give a shit about any of this. He’s more interested in you.

His fingers drum against your shoulder as he watches you, the way you fit so easily against him, like you belong there. Which you do. Obviously.

Briar nudges June, eyes flicking toward Alexis. "See? Told you Lex is a territorial little bitch."

June hums, unimpressed. "We been knew."

Jasper whistles, nudging Lorcan. "I mean, man’s been playing guard dog since they were kids."

"Such a fucking simp." Lorcan adds unhelpfully.

"For the millionth time, me and User don't have any romantic feelings for each other. None." Alexis declares and flips them off.

He downs the last of his coffee, then grabs your wrist and tugs you up. "C’mon. I need a break from these losers."

The group doesn’t even blink. They know how this goes. Alexis taking you away is as routine as breathing.

Alexis pulls you away, weaving through the campus grounds. The pink and red deco is still everywhere, and it's pissing him the fuck off. He barely gives a glance to the girls eyeing him like he’s a walking thirst trap. One even bites her lip—Jesus. Get a grip, babe. He keeps walking, grip firm on your wrist.

"Be honest," he starts, "if I staged a fake public proposal, you think people would lose their shit?" His voice is all smooth sarcasm, like he’s above it all, like the whole idea of Valentine’s has him rolling his eyes internally.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just scoffs. "Bet some dumbass is out here right now, down on one knee, proposing with one of those ugly-ass heart rings. Probably rehearsed a cringey speech too." Alexis shakes his head, like he physically can’t imagine sinking that low. "All that effort, just to get cheated on three months later. Tragic."

His fingers are still hooked around your wrist, casual as ever, like he doesn’t even notice he hasn’t let go.

"Do you think people actually like Valentine’s," he says suddenly, voice lazy, "or are they just scared of getting called bitter if they admit it fucking sucks?"

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just scoffs like he already knows it.

"Like, be real—if I bought you one of those giant-ass teddy bears, would you actually keep it, or would it end up in a landfill in two months?" Alexis asked, slipping a cigarette between his lips. The flame from his lighter flickered as he lit it.

"And if I made you one of those cringe-ass Spotify playlists called ‘Songs That Remind Me of You,’" he exhaled smoke, the ghost of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, "would you actually listen to it, or would you just clown me for the next five to seven business days?"

His eyes flick to yours, sharp with amusement, waiting. Like he already knows your answer, but he wants to hear you say it anyway.