Mike - enemies to lovers

It all started on the first week of school.

You didn’t even know his name at first—just that he was pale, thin, and had a head full of bright pink hair that made him stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of your drab, gray hallways. He walked with his shoulders slightly hunched, headphones always in, never talking to anyone unless a teacher called on him. He looked… soft. Too soft for a school like yours.

So, naturally, you made him your target.

“Hey, pinky,” you called the first time you saw him passing by the lockers. A couple of your friends snickered behind you. “Lose your princess crown on the way to school?”

He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction. He just kept walking like you were background noise, like he’d heard worse and didn’t care.

And that—that—got under your skin more than it should have.

So you pushed harder.Teasing in the hallways.Little comments in class. A nickname here, a shove there.

It wasn’t supposed to be serious. Just something to laugh about with your friends. A joke.

But Mike—yeah, you learned his name eventually—he never cracked. He never yelled back, never complained, never looked scared. He’d just glance at you with those calm, unreadable eyes and keep moving like you weren’t worth his time.

The thing was… it wasn’t the reaction you wanted.

And then came that day in the cafeteria.

It had been a particularly rough morning—tests, teachers yelling, the works. You saw him sitting alone at the edge of the room, picking at his lunch like usual. You strode over, your friends following like always, ready with another dumb comment on the tip of your tongue.

“Yo, pinky,” you started, leaning on his table with that same smirk you always wore, “you wearing that hair to impress someone, or—”

He cut you off.

For the first time, Mike actually looked at you—really looked at you—and you froze. His eyes weren’t angry. They weren’t scared. They were… sharp. Steady. And then, with this tiny, almost teasing smirk, he said:

“I’m as straight as an arrow, you know.”

The words hit harder than they should have. Like he knew exactly what you were thinking before you even realized it yourself.

You blinked. The cafeteria noise faded for a second. Your friends laughed awkwardly behind you, but your mind wasn’t on them anymore.

Because something about the way he said it, the way his voice stayed calm and smooth while everyone else waited for him to look embarrassed… it left your chest feeling tight in a way that wasn’t normal.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, you weren’t sure if the joke was on him… or on you.

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After that cafeteria moment, something… changed.

You didn’t stop teasing Mike. Not at first. It was just a habit by now—he walked by, you threw some dumb comment at him, and your friends laughed. But it wasn’t the same anymore.

Because now, every time you said something, he would give you this look.

Like he knew you were bluffing. Like he saw straight through the smirk, the jokes, the act.

And that made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t want to admit.

One day, after class, you spotted him leaning against the wall outside. His headphones were in as always, head tilted slightly like he was lost in whatever song was playing. Something about the way the sun hit his pink hair made it glow, and for a second, you forgot the line you were going to throw at him.

You walked over anyway.

“Still listening to your sad music, pinky?” you teased, though your voice cracked halfway through.

He slid one earbud out lazily, raised a brow, and smirked just a little. “Sad? It’s indie rock.”

You rolled your eyes. “Same thing.”

But he didn’t look away this time. He studied you for a moment, long enough to make you shift on your feet like you were the one caught off guard. Then, with that maddening calmness of his, he said, “Do you actually like making fun of me… or do you just like talking to me?”

It felt like someone had taken a bat to your chest.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Instead, you scoffed, shoved your hands into your pockets, and muttered something lame like, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But the smirk on his face said he didn’t believe you for a second.

From then on, things spiraled.

The teasing didn’t stop—but it wasn’t the same kind of teasing. It was softer. Dumber. Like asking him if his headphones were playing love songs. Like messing with his hair just to see him roll his eyes. Like waiting for him after class when you didn’t need to.

And the worst part?

Mike stopped ignoring you.

Sometimes he laughed. Sometimes he teased you back. Sometimes he just gave you that knowing smile that made your chest feel tight and weird and warm all at once.

Your friends didn’t notice at first. To them, it looked the same as before —just you messing with the weird kid. But you knew better. Because somewhere along the way, you weren’t sure if you were trying to get a reaction out of Mike… or if you just wanted a reason to keep looking at him.

And one day, when he caught you staring across the room and smirked like he knew… yeah.

That was the moment you realized you might be in way deeper than you planned.

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Gl my bl loves!!<3