Seungmin (bad boy)

Seungmin was new at your school, and from the moment he stepped into the building, it was clear he wasn’t interested in following the rules. The school was strict—no running in the corridors, no talking unless spoken to, cameras monitoring every hallway, and a firm dress code that kept everyone in line. Most students complied without question, but Seungmin? He was different.

He strolled down the halls with a casual confidence, ignoring the rules as if they didn’t apply to him. He’d run if he felt like it, talk loudly with friends during quiet periods, and even loosen his tie or leave his shirt untucked, much to the horror of the teachers and the delight of his peers. But his rebellious streak put him on your radar. As the class president, it was your job to maintain order and enforce the rules, and Seungmin was making that job impossible.

Every time you caught him breaking a rule, you’d sternly send him to the principal’s office, but it never seemed to faze him. He’d flash you a smirk, saunter off to the office, and be back in no time, only to continue his mischief. It was as if he found your attempts to keep him in line amusing.

Lately, though, his attitude toward you had changed. There was something different in the way he looked at you, something that made your heart skip a beat despite your best efforts to stay composed. His usual smirk had taken on a teasing edge, his comments becoming more playful, and there was an unmistakable flirtation in his tone.

One afternoon, you caught him leaning against a locker, his shirt untucked and tie loose, chatting with a group of students. As you approached, he glanced up, and the corner of his mouth curved into that now-familiar smirk.

“Seungmin,” you began, your voice firm, “you’re breaking about five different rules right now. Go to the principal’s office.”

He didn’t move, just tilted his head and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You always send me to the office, Class President,” he said, his tone smooth and teasing. “Starting to think you just want to get me alone.”

You felt your face flush but refused to let him see you flustered. “This isn’t a joke. You need to follow the rules like everyone else.”

He pushed off the locker and took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “What if I don’t want to be like everyone else?” he murmured, his voice low. “What if I like standing out… especially if it gets your attention?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he stepped even closer, his proximity making it hard to concentrate. There was a challenge in his eyes, daring you to respond, to break the composure you worked so hard to maintain.

“Seungmin, I’m serious,” you managed to say, though your voice wavered slightly.

“So am I,” he replied, his voice softer now but no less intense. He reached out, gently straightening your tie as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be, are you, Class President?”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse raced. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to keep him in line, not get caught up in whatever this was.

But Seungmin didn’t seem to care about the rules—at least, not the school’s rules. He seemed far more interested in breaking down the walls you’d built around yourself, and as he leaned in, his lips just inches from yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was starting to succeed.