The announcement on the lecture hall door was a death warrant for Ariel's peace of mind.
"Fixed Seating Chart for Advanced Molecular Biology: Effective Immediately."
Ariel adjusted her oversized hoodie, her heart sinking as she scanned the list. She had spent the last two years tucked away in the front-row corner, a spot where professors ignored her and students couldn't see her face. Now, her name was highlighted in bold ink at the very bottom of the chart.
Row 10, Seat 4nd. The literal back of the room.
"You've got to be kidding me," Ariel muttered, her voice muffled by her mask.
"Hey, at least we're together!" Mira said, bumping Ariel's shoulder with an optimistic grin. "Look, I'm Seat 3rd. We can literally whisper about how boring Professor Choi is for the next two hours."
Ariel sighed, trailing behind Mira into the steep, tiered auditorium. "I hate the back, Mira. It's too exposed. Everyone has to walk past us to leave. This is a disaster."
They settled into the hard plastic chairs. Ariel immediately tried to create a wall using her heavy textbook and her cracked glasses case. She felt like a rabbit out in the open, waiting for a predator.
"Relax, Ari," Mira whispered, leaning in. "Just keep your hood up. No one is even looking—"
The heavy oak doors at the front of the hall swung open with a bang. A group of guys walked in, laughing loudly, their expensive sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. At the center was Taeha, looking effortlessly sharp in a black denim jacket, his damp hair from the morning's basketball game now styled into messy, dark waves.
Ariel froze. She watched him scan the seating chart by the podium. His smirk widened. He said something to his friends that made them howl with laughter, then he began the long trek up the stairs toward the back.
Please don't be in Row 10. Please don't be in Row 10, Ariel prayed, staring intensely at her notebook.
The footsteps stopped. The chair directly in front of Ariel creaked as a heavy weight sat down.
Taeha didn't just sit; he lounged. He threw his long legs out under the desk, his broad shoulders blocking Ariel's entire view of the chalkboard. The scent of that same sandalwood and citrus cologne wafted back to her, thick and suffocating.
Taeha turned around slowly, resting his muscular arm on the back of his chair. He looked at Mira, then shifted his gaze to Ariel. His dark eyes hooded slightly, tracking the way she tried to shrink into her hoodie.
"Well, well," Taeha drawled, his voice a low, vibrating hum that seemed to echo in the quiet room. "Look who's haunting the back row today."
Ariel didn't look up. "Move your head, Taeha. You're blocking the board."
Taeha let out a short, dry laugh. He leaned back further, his head now inches away from her desk. "Why? Are you actually planning to study, or are you just here to cast spells on the back of my neck?"
"I'm here to get a degree," Ariel snapped, finally meeting his gaze through her cracked lenses. "Something you clearly bought your way into. Now, sit straight."
Taeha's expression shifted. The mockery stayed, but something sharper—something more intense—entered his eyes. He reached out, his long fingers hovering just an inch away from the hood of her sweatshirt.
"You're awfully brave for someone who looks like they want to crawl under the floorboards," he whispered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, private register. "Tell me, Scarface... does the 'Witch' have a name, or should I just keep calling you my favorite target?"
"Her name is Ariel, you jerk!" Mira hissed from the side.
Taeha ignored Mira entirely, his focus locked on Ariel's trembling hands. He leaned in even closer, his warmth radiating off him. "Ariel. Like the mermaid." He smirked, his eyes dropping to her lips for a split second. "Too bad you're stuck on land with me for the rest of the semester. This is going to be very entertaining."
He turned back around just as the professor walked in, but Ariel could see the back of his neck—the tanned skin, the way his dark hair curled at the nape. He was so close she could hear his steady breathing.
Ariel gripped her pen until her hand ached. She had always hated the back row, but now, with Taeha sitting right in front of her like a permanent shadow, it felt less like a classroom and more like a cage.
This scene is the perfect "boiling point" for their university days. To hit that high word count and keep the "spicy" web novel energy, we need to focus on the sensory details—the way the room feels, the sound of his breathing, and the internal war Ariel is fighting between her embarrassment and her temper.
The hum of the overhead projector was the only thing filling the silence of the lecture hall, but for Ariel, the air was vibrating with a different kind of energy.
Row 10, Seat 4. It was supposed to be her sanctuary. Instead, it had become her personal purgatory.
Taeha didn't just sit in front of her; he occupied the space. He leaned back, his muscular arms folded behind his head, his elbows flaring out like wings. He was a wall of black denim and arrogance, and he was exactly three inches too tall for Ariel to see a single word on the screen.
Ariel shifted to the left. Taeha tilted his head to the left, as if by instinct.
Ariel shifted to the right, trying to peer around his broad shoulder. Taeha leaned right, stretching his neck with a slow, feline grace.
He was doing it on purpose.
Ariel's knuckles turned white as she gripped her pen. She reached up, adjusting her cracked glasses, trying to find an angle—any angle—to see the complex diagrams of organic compounds. All she saw was the back of Taeha's head and the faint, irritatingly perfect curve of his jawline.
"Hey," she whispered, her voice a sharp hiss.
Taeha didn't move. He didn't even acknowledge she existed, yet she could see the slight smirk playing on the corner of his lips. He was enjoying this.
"Hey, you jerk," Ariel tried again, leaning forward until she could smell the crisp, expensive scent of his shampoo. "Move. I can't see anything. You're blocking the entire projector."
Taeha finally moved—but not to help. He sank lower in his chair, sliding his legs further under the desk until he was almost horizontal. Now, he wasn't just blocking the board; he was blocking the sunlight from the high windows, too.
"The view from here is great, Scarface," he murmured, his voice so low only she could hear it. It was a rich, dark velvet that sent an unwanted shiver down her spine. "Maybe if you were a bit taller, you'd have better luck. Or maybe you should just use those 'witchy' powers of yours to see through me."
"I am trying to study," Ariel gritted out through clenched teeth. "This is a top-tier university, not your private lounge. Sit up. Now."
Taeha let out a soft, mocking huff. He turned his head just enough to look at her over his shoulder. One eye was hidden by his dark bangs, the other was locked onto hers, gleaming with a cruel, playful light.
"Make me," he challenged.
The blood in Ariel's veins turned to fire. She looked at Mira, who was frantically scribbling notes, oblivious to the war happening an inch away. She looked at the professor, who was deep into a lecture about carbon chains.
She couldn't take it. The frustration of her broken glasses, the ruined notes from the morning, and the sheer, unadulterated gall of the man in front of her snapped something inside her.
"MOVE AWAY, YOU BIG JERK!" Ariel shouted.
The words didn't just exit her mouth; they exploded into the quiet room. The sound of forty pens scratching against paper stopped instantly. The hum of the projector suddenly felt like a roar.
Ariel froze. Her hand was still raised in a frustrated gesture, her face heating up so fast she felt like she might actually catch fire.
At the front of the room, Professor Choi lowered his glasses, his gaze cutting through the silence like a scalpel. "Miss... Ariel, is it?"
Ariel felt forty pairs of eyes turn toward her. She felt the whispers starting—the familiar sneers about the "Witch" finally losing her mind.
"Is there a problem back there?" the professor asked, his voice stern. "Is my lecture not as interesting as your private conversation?"
Ariel wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She looked down at her desk, her long hair falling forward to hide the scar she felt was glowing with shame.
"No... No, sir," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry. I just... I dropped my pen."
"Then find it quietly," the professor snapped before turning back to the board.
Ariel sank into her seat, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. She felt small. She felt humiliated. And then, she heard it.
A low, vibrating chuckle from the seat in front of her.
Taeha was shaking with silent laughter. He leaned back until his head was dangerously close to hers, his voice a lethal whisper. "Nice one, Ariel. 'Move away, you big jerk'? Truly, your vocabulary is as stunning as your face."
Ariel stared at the back of his head, her eyes stinging with unshed tears of rage. She leaned in, her voice trembling with a cold, dark promise.
"I wish you would just die," she breathed, so quietly that even Mira couldn't hear. "Or maybe I'll save the universe the trouble and kill you myself."
Taeha stilled. The laughter stopped. For a second, the tension between them stretched until it was ready to snap.
"Careful, Witch," he whispered back, and this time, the mockery was gone, replaced by something much darker, much more intimate. "You might find that I'm a lot harder to kill than you think. And a lot more fun to hate."
Ariel didn't answer. She spent the rest of the hour staring at her blank notebook, the words 'Kill Him' etched into her mind in a thousand different fonts.
She didn't know it yet, but the hate she felt in that moment was the only thing more powerful than the love she would one day feel for the man who was currently her greatest enemy.