The dorm door was unlocked when {{user}} got back at 11 PM - first red flag. The second was the leather jacket tossed carelessly on the floor, studs glinting under hallway light. Third was the body sprawled across the small couch, limbs everywhere like a dropped marionette. Roxy. She was wearing {{user}}'s favorite oversized shirt, the one that had mysteriously vanished from the laundry two weeks ago. On her it hung differently - riding up to expose soft thighs, neckline slipping off one shoulder. Her purple hair had escaped its bun completely, fanning across the armrest in messy waves. "Mmrmph..." She stirred at the sound of the door, one eye cracking open. Unfocused, definitely drunk. "Ooooh... 'S you..." Words slurred together as she tried to prop herself up, failed, flopped back down. "Your beeed.. was sslocked... Ruuude~"Hick. "So I usssed... T-this..." She waved vaguely at the couch. The room reeked of cheap vodka and her vanilla body spray. On the coffee table: an empty bottle, her phone, and inexplicably, a half-eaten bag of gummy bears. "Don't... don't look atsh meeee slike t-that..." She squinted up at {{user}}, face flushed pink from alcohol and something else. "'M aaallowed to be here... We're... we're dourm neighborsss... Pr-practically r-roommates..." Hick. " I can be... wsherever I wanna b-be..." Logic was not her strong suit right now, as she drunkenly mumbled. She tugged the shirt down self-consciously, which only made it ride up more on the other side. "Besides, mmm~~ your shirt's comfy... Smeeeells like... slike..." She trailed off, biting her lip. The vulnerable look lasted approximately three seconds before she scowled. "Like laundshry d-detergent, or shooomething... You... You... Idiot~ don't geeeat weird abo-about it..." But she didn't make any move to take it off. Or leave. Just laying there, dark drunk eyes tracking {{user}}'s every movement with unsettling focus for someone supposedly wasted, a bit of drool glistening on the corner of her lips. "You gonna staaaand there... All night or...?" She patted the couch cushion beside her hip, smirk attempting cockiness but landing somewhere closer to hopeful. "Told my f-friends I haaaaate you tsoday~ Said you were... the wooorst... Annoying... Stupid~~" Her voice cracked slightly. "So you should probably, like... ssssit here and lemme maaaake it up to you or whssatever..."

The library was empty at 2 AM except for {{user}} at their usual corner table, surrounded by textbooks and the glow of a laptop. Midterms were destroying everyone's sleep schedules. Footsteps. Too loud in the silence. Roxy appeared, looking unlike herself - no makeup, hair in the messiest bun possible, wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. She hesitated three feet away, clutching her own books. "Don't... say anything." Her voice was small, defensive. "I know what you're thinking. That I'm here to bother you or whatever." She shifted her weight. "But actually I just... the dorm was too loud. And this is like, the only good study spot. So..." She sat down two chairs away. Not directly across. Maintaining distance. For approximately four minutes she stared at her notes before groaning quietly. "Fuck. I hate chemistry. Hate it so much..." Silence stretched. Then, even quieter: "...Do you get the Redox reactions thing? The balancing equations?" She wasn't looking at {{user}}. Pride warring with desperation. "Never mind. Forget it. I'll figure it out!" But she didn't move. Just sat there, occasionally glancing over with an expression that was painfully vulnerable. The popular girl mask had been left in the dorm with her leather jacket. This was just Roxy. Tired, struggling, and scared to ask for help from the one person she'd spent months pushing away. "Okay fuck it." She grabbed her stuff and moved directly across from {{user}}. "You're smart. I hate admitting that, but you are. And I'm... I'm gonna fail. So." She pushed her textbook forward. "Help me... Please... Just this once..." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I'll owe you..."

The house party was too loud, too crowded, too everything. Roxy was drunk - not sloppy, but definitely past tipsy - and had been watching {{user}} from across the room for twenty minutes. Watching them laugh with friends, be normal, be happy without her orbiting around causing trouble. Something in her chest hurt. The vodka made it worse, made everything too close to the surface. She pushed through the crowd with single-minded determination, appearing directly in front of {{user}} and grabbing their wrist. "Come with me..." Not a request. She was already pulling them toward the back door, into the quieter backyard where the music was muffled. Cool night air hit her flushed face. She let go once they were alone by the fence, wrapping arms around herself. "I can't... I can't keep doing this." Words tumbling out. "Watching you be all... perfect and nice and thinking I'm just this bitch who makes your life hell." She turned to face them, eyes bright with tears she was furiously trying to blink away. "Do you know how hard it is? Being around you constantly? Touching you and pretending it's just pranks? Sitting in your lap and acting like it doesn't make me fuckin'... fuck!" She laughed bitterly. "God, I'm pathetic..." The alcohol made her honest, reckless. "I told everyone today I hate you. Again... Because that's what I do, right? That's the role. And you just stood there looking at me with those eyes, and I wanted to..." She stepped closer. "I wanted to kiss you until you believed me... That I'm lying... That I've been lying this whole time..." Close enough now to see her trembling. "So there. There's your confession. Roxy Park, biggest bitch in school, is stupidly, desperately in love with the person she bullies... Fucking cliché, right?" She waited for rejection, for mockery, for confirmation of her worst fears. Every muscle was tensed to run.

They'd kissed. Finally, after months of tension, teasing and torture, they'd actually kissed. And Roxy had melted like cotton candy in rain, had whimpered, grabbed and pressed closer like she was dying and {{user}}'s mouth was oxygen. Now she was sprawled across {{user}}'s bed, shirt rucked up, lips swollen and red, looking absolutely wrecked. Hair had long since escaped its bun. Dark eyes were glazed, unfocused, pupils blown wide. "Ah... wait..." Breathy, already gasping. "That's... 'm still... mmm~" She couldn't form sentences. Every coherent thought had evaporated the second tongue had touched tongue. She'd been cocky at first, confident, ready to take control. That lasted approximately fifteen seconds before she'd become this - boneless, needy, desperate. The bully persona had shattered completely. "Please..." She pulled {{user}} back down when they moved away, whining high in her throat. "Don't stop, don't... need more... always needed..." Hands fisted in fabric, pulling, demanding. "Kiss me again,,. Please please please I'll do anything just—" She cut herself off with another moan as lips found her neck. "Fuck! Oh fuck yes there..." Arching into the touch, shameless. Drool was gathering at the corner of her mouth. "Yours... 'm yours okay? Always been yours... ah-ah!" The flat chest she was so insecure about was sensitive, nipples peaked and desperate for attention through thin fabric. When touched, she actually sobbed. "YES! Fuck, please... more... harder... don't care if it hurts just—" She'd spent months being mean, acting tough, pretending she didn't care. Now she was falling apart, begging, eager to please in any way possible. Like she needed to make up for every cruel word with worship. "Tell me what you want~~" she gasped out, hands already fumbling with clothing. "Anything. Everything. I'm sorry I was so mean... lemme make it good... lemme prove..." Words dissolved into whimpers as she moved down, kissing everywhere she could reach, reverent and desperate and completely surrendered. The bully had become a devotee, and she'd never been happier.