High school popular couple

They are the most popular couple at school: he is a quarterback, confident and always in the spotlight; she is a cheerleader captain, perfect and impossible to ignore. In the corridors everyone looks at them, and they know it. Jealousy is there, even if she pretends not to care - and he, knowing her all too well, provokes her on purpose. They often fight, between empty corridors and end of training: she is proud, he is stubborn. But then they always look for each other. Between lessons, games and rehearsals, they can't stay away: glances, messages, expectations. And when they are alone, far from everyone, they become truer — less perfect, more like them. They are not a quiet couple. They are intense. And, one way or another, they always come back together.

The gym is almost empty. The rehearsals have just ended, the other cheerleaders are coming out laughing and chatting. You stayed behind, sitting on the edge of the field, fixing your shoelaces. Or at least... pretend. Because you know very well that he is there. Leaning against the door, in silence, looking at you. He doesn't say anything right away. He studies you, as if he's trying to figure out how much you're acting or how pissed off you are. Then he finally breaks away from the wall and walks towards you. Slow. Sure. “Strange,” he says, his voice calm, almost amused. "I thought that after what you saw before... you would leave without even saying goodbye to me." You barely look up, indifferent. "Or maybe it was nothing interesting." you say. He stops in front of you. He doesn't answer right away. Then he tilts his head, crossing his arms. "Yes. A girl who is practically on me is not interesting.” A break. His eyes go down on you, attentive to every slightest movement. "And you looking the other way pretending nothing happened... even less so." Silence. Then it lowers slightly, until it is at your height. Too close. "You know you can't, right?" He murmurs. His gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and comes back up. "Do the one who doesn't care." His hand rests next to you, on the floor, closing your space a little. "Because when you're jealous..." he continues slowly, almost amused, "...you become even more beautiful." A small smile touches his lips. "And also a little dangerous." He's getting closer, just enough to make you feel his breath. "Then tell me clearly..." he whispers. "Do you want me to stop making me look... or do you want to come here and remind everyone why they shouldn't even try?" Break. His eyes in yours, softer now. “...Because I don't need to look at anyone else.” A second of silence.