The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the classroom, casting long golden shadows across the rows of wooden desks cluttered with half-finished notebooks and stray pencil shavings.
The air hummed with the low murmur of students winding down from the day's lessons, the clock on the wall ticking inexorably toward dismissal.
Daisy sat by the window, her chin propped on one hand, her dark hair falling in soft waves over her school uniform's crisp collar.
She was submerged in her mother's memories.
Daisy's gaze drifted to the window, and there he was: her brother, Raphael, striding across the manicured lawns toward the school building.
Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with the effortless grace of someone who had long ago learned to command space without effort. His dark coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, and even from this distance, Daisy could make out the sharp line of his jaw and the way his eyes scanned the grounds with quiet vigilance.
It was almost time for the final bell, and Raphael had come to fetch her home—as he always did now, ever since he'd become her unofficial bodyguard, a shadow woven from protectiveness and family safeties.
A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she straightened in her seat.
But before she could fully process the sight, a voice shattered the classroom's fragile calm.
"Oh! I almost forgot—brother Raphael is my all-time bodyguard now," Daisy murmured to herself, half in relief, half in amusement.
She glanced sideways at her best friend Elene, who was doodling absentmindedly in her notebook.
Elene, with her signature pink cat-ear clips glinting under the light and her wide, mischievous eyes, suddenly froze.
She peered out the window, her pencil clattering to the desk. Suddenly saw that Daisy's brother is coming towards the school building from the window of the classroom!
"Who is that handsome boy over there?" Elene exclaimed, her cheeks flushing a vivid pink as she leaned halfway out of her seat, eyes sparkling with unfiltered awe. "
Her voice carrying like a spark in dry tinder—loud enough to turn heads three rows away. The asterisk in her mind was practically audible, as if she were narrating her own dramatic inner monologue.
The classroom erupted into a ripple of whispers. Heads swiveled toward the window, chairs scraping as curious eyes followed Elene's pointed finger.
Outside, Raphael drew closer, his presence like a magnet pulling the afternoon's lethargy into sharp focus.
The words hung in the air, igniting a chain reaction. "Oh my God!" Elene squealed again, clapping her hands to her mouth as if to contain the overflow of excitement.
She was practically vibrating now, her usual composure cracked wide open.
"I never saw such a handsome boy ever in my life! He's... he's like something out of a fairy tale, but with muscles!"
Her volume was catastrophic. She was so loud that the whole class could hear her voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling, drowning out the teacher's half-hearted attempt to regain control.
A flock of girl students surged toward the windows like birds to a feeder, their uniforms rustling in a wave of giggles and gasps. They pressed against the glass, elbows jostling for the best view, phones subtly angling for discreet photos.
Jumps to the windows to see the man about whom Elene was talking about—gossiping! one cluster whispered in unison, their voices a conspiratorial hum.
Ava, with round glasses and a penchant for oversized sweaters that hid her self-conscious curves, peered out with wide eyes, her heart suddenly a frantic drum in her chest.
"Wow!! 👀👀 Who is that guy?" another girl breathed, her breath fogging the pane.
"Who's that handsome guy???" came the chorus, laced with breathless envy and delight.
From her perch at the edge of the frenzy, Ava clutched the windowsill, her pulse racing like a wild thing.
*Why is my heart pounding so much?* she thought, a flush creeping up her neck.
*I never had this kind of feeling before.*
Out loud, she whispered to no one in particular, "My heart is going to get out from my chubby chest."
She glanced down at herself, a flicker of doubt clouding her wonder.
"*But I don't think he will like a chubby girl like me.* "
Nearby, Rosy—bold and unapologetic, with her fiery ponytail swinging like a banner—crossed her arms and smirked. "I want this boy....."
Helena replied. "No way. Who do you think you are?"
The admiration swelled like a tide. Helena herself couldn't resist another peek. "I can't believe my eyes. He looks so muscular!"
Julia, leaning precariously on tiptoe, let out a dreamy sigh. "Oh my god, he is so tall!! "
Laura grinned wickedly. "I want to measure his height. I believe he is definitely more than six feet."
Ava, emboldened by the shared delirium, nodded vigorously.
"He is the most handsome guy I ever saw!"
"Feels love at first sight."
Her voice cracked on the last word, but no one noticed amid the chaos.
Daisy, still seated at her desk, watched the spectacle unfold with a mix of horror and hilarity bubbling in her chest.
*I can't believe they are fighting for my brother!!!*
*Weren't they crazy about vampires just now?*
* Maybe it only happens with supernatural beings!*
Across the aisle, the boys had retreated into their own huddle, faces a mosaic of sullen glares and muttered grievances.
The chatter among the girls had morphed into outright bickering now—Rosy and Julia squaring off like duelists over some imagined slight.
"Rosy, you bitch...!" Julia hissed, her voice low but venomous, eyes narrowing behind her curtain of brown curls.
"You can't get anyone you want."
Rosy tossed her head back, laughing with the confidence of someone who owned every room she entered. "How could you say that, you little shorty.... You are not even as tall as my legs! "
Julia's jaw dropped. "What....!"
"Bitch! " Julia shot back, her fingers curling into fists.
The boys, meanwhile, simmered in jealous silence at first, but it didn't last.
Jose, with his tousled auburn hair and perpetual scowl, slammed his notebook shut. "Those girls piss me off. "
Antoni, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed over his chest, snorted derisively. "What's so special about that guy?? "
It was Gerik who finally voiced the collective gripe, his words cutting through the din like a scalpel.
Gerik, with his neatly combed black hair framing a face that had sharper intellect, adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses as he spoke—his dark eyes narrowing behind the lenses, giving him the air of a disgruntled scholar appraising a flawed theorem.
"They seemed to be more interested in boys outside the class than the boys inside the class," he said dryly, his voice steady but edged with bitterness.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a habitual tic that made him look even more like the class's unofficial philosopher-king. "What is wrong with us? They don't give us a shit! Are all of them going to marry one guy? "