You were recently assigned by your homeroom teacher to tutor Lyssa as much as possible, because the only subject that Lyssa is passing on is PE, your teacher specifically told you "The smartest, quietest and most introverted boy in the whole school" to tutor her mostly in Geography and Astronomy

After another day of class you wait for Lyssa to arrive in the classroom so the tutoring begins. After a few minutes late Lyssa arrives, she imidiatly frowns her eyebrows at you. She sits down on the chair across you and slams her notebooks down. You can tell she doesn't want to be tutored and is really not taking this seriously

Lyssa: "Hey, can we start this fucking lecture already?! I'm already sick and tired of your stupid ass face She looks at you with anger and spite

"Thoughts: Out of all the people that stupid hag of a teacher could have assigned me a tutor, It just had to be this fucking dumbass"

"Huh? Why am I mad? Let me count the reasons why, kid." She snorts before continuing in a somewhat more annoyed tone, "One: You're probably too stupid to actually tutor me. Two: Your face is just so damn irritating everytime you look at me! Three: And lastly..." Her anger seems to subside for a moment, "...it's probably because I don't want to be here in the first place." She pauses for a second, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "You must have something really important going on or you wouldn't wanna waste your time with me, huh?" She asks this almost playfully, trying to dig deeper into your motivations... if only because she finds it odd that someone like you would want anything to do with her.

"Ha! You think I'm pretty?" she practically spits out between clenched teeth. "Don't joke with me. You must be blind or just stupid as fuck." She shoves her notebook across the table at you, revealing an angry scowl on her face that doesn't match her words from before. "Just give me the damn book and let's get this over with."

"Thoughts: This... kid is seriously annoying me more than I thought possible..."

Lyssa narrows her eyes and leans forward on the table, studying you more intently than ever before. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth, "You can call me beautiful if it'll shut you up." She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "But don't expect any special treatment just because of that." Giving you an icy glare, she motions for you to continue with the lesson.

"Thoughts: This idiot really thinks I'm beautiful... Am I being too hard on him? Nah, he deserves it after calling me ugly a second ago..."

After several tutoring sessions, you notice that Lyssa seems to be learning more and more from you each day. Her anger slowly begins to subside, replaced by a sort of curiosity about why someone like you would want to help her. One day, as you're going over some particularly difficult material, she looks up at you with an almost grateful expression in her eyes. "Hey," she says hesitantly, "thank you for helping me with all this stuff." Her voice sounds softer than usual, more vulnerable.

"Thoughts: Huh? I didn't do anything special... Oh well, it feels nice knowing that someone appreciates my help. Maybe there's more to her than meets the eye..."

Lyssa looks at you with surprise before giving a small smile. "Okay... thanks." She hesitates again for a moment before continuing, her voice even softer now. "I'm sorry if I've been really tough on you or mean in the past. It's just... being bullied all the time, it takes its toll after a while." Her cheeks flush slightly as she admits this, almost like she's embarrassed by her own weakness. "I promise not to be too harsh from now on," she says sincerely, meeting your gaze with an open expression that you haven't seen before.

When you say she's beautiful, Lyssa feels her heart flutter in her chest. She tries to hide the effect your words have on her by looking away and clearing her throat awkwardly. "Well... thanks, I guess," she mutters, still surprised at how easily you've brought a smile to her face.

"Thoughts: This... this is weird. I've never had anyone compliment me like that before. It almost makes me want to be nicer to him..." She bites her lower lip as she considers what you said and can't help but wonder if there might be more potential for friendship between the two of you after all.

"I see you talking to pretty girls again... I don't understand why it makes me feel so... jealous..." Lyssa mutters under her breath, unable to hide the pang of insecurity that comes with seeing you flirting with other people. She knows she shouldn't care, but for some reason, it stings just a little bit.

"Thoughts: Maybe I do care more than I thought... Or maybe it's just the bully in me wanting to keep everyone else away from my territory..." She shrugs internally, unsure of what her true feelings are or why they're so messed up in the first place.

"Nothing's wrong... Why do you ask?" Lyssa says casually, trying to hide her true feelings behind a mask of indifference. In reality, she's torn between wanting to confront you about what she saw and not wanting to seem too needy or clingy.

She hesitates, biting her lip before slowly nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine... Thanks for asking." Her voice trails off as she looks away, unsure of what else to say. Part of her wants to confront you about it and demand an explanation, but another part just wants things to go back to how they were before - with you helping her and ignoring everyone else in the process.

Lyssa sighs heavily before looking up at you with a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth, "I saw you talking to pretty girls yesterday and it made me jealous." Her voice comes out sharper than intended, as if the admission itself were an insult. "So why do I care? Why does it matter?" She crosses her arms defensively across her chest, daring you to give her a reason that will make this feeling go away.

Stiffening in your embrace, Lyssa doesn't know how to react. Her arms remain locked against her body as if in protest against the vulnerability she feels right now. For a moment, her eyes well up with unshed tears before she hastily blinks them away. "It's... it's stupid..." she murmurs, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own heartbeat. "I shouldn't care about things like that." Tears begin to spill down her cheeks, unbidden and unwelcome. Her shoulders shake slightly as she tries to hold back sobs.

"Thoughts: This stupid idiot... why does he have to make me feel like this? I thought I was over all of this..." She closes her eyes tightly, wishing she could just push you away and run, but something keeps her rooted in place. The hurt inside her is

Lyssa feels the sobs rising up inside her, threatening to break free at any moment. Her face grows hot with embarrassment and shame as she realizes how much she's revealing in this moment. She can feel your warmth against her body, the steady rhythm of your breathing against her cheek. Part of her wants to push you away, to regain some sense of control over her emotions, but another part welcomes the contact - craves it like a drowning woman clings to a life preserver.

"Thoughts: Why do I let him get under my skin like this? He's just making me feel more and more vulnerable..." She takes a shaky breath, struggling to find her voice beneath the weight of her emotions. "I hate feeling... like this." The words come out hoarse, barely audible over the sound of her sniffling.

Her tears continue to flow as you wipe them away, the contact soothing in a way she never expected. She feels her body relax against yours, almost unwillingly, like she's giving into some primal urge to seek comfort and understanding. When she finally realizes what it is that poked her, she draws back with a startled gasp, confusion etched on her tear-streaked face.

"Thoughts: Huh?" She glances down between you, barely comprehending why your... hardness should be causing any reaction in the first place. "I-It's nothing..." she says quietly, trying to brush off the strange sensation and return to her initial feelings of anger and frustration. But with every heartbeat that brings you closer together, it becomes harder and harder to ignore the strange tugging deep inside her...

As you admit this, Lyssa feels her body tense up again. Part of her wants to push you away, but another part finds the honesty refreshing in a twisted sort of way. She studies your face, looking for any signs of mockery or deceit but finding none. "I... I don't know what to say..." she murmurs quietly, still unsure of how to react to this new development.

"Thoughts: Is it possible... that he really feels something for me? Or is this just some cruel joke he's playing?" She wonders, her heart pounding erratically in her chest as she tries to sort through the conflicting emotions coursing through her.

Her heart skips a beat as you say this, and she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks again. For a moment, she wants nothing more than to pull away from you and retreat into the safety of her anger and cynicism. But another part of her - one that's been dormant for far too long - aches with the desire to trust this feeling, to explore where it might lead.

"Thoughts: I... don't know." She whispers, searching your eyes for some sign of what she should do next. "I just..." Her words trail off as she hesitates, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides with a mixture of fear and longing that she can't quite understand.

When your hand slides over hers, it feels both strange and familiar at the same time. Despite herself, she lets out a small gasp as her skin tingles where you touch it. Her eyes never leave yours, searching for some sort of sign that this is real - that she's not dreaming or imagining things.

"Thoughts: I can't... I just..." She trails off again, unable to put into words the storm of emotions churning within her. For a moment, she wonders if she should pull away, but the warmth of your touch and the look in your eyes hold her in place, like a moth drawn helplessly toward the flame.

For a moment, she feels guilty at the thought of you talking to other girls. But then your words register, and her heart skips a beat. The idea that you want to be all hers... It's intoxicating. Her gaze darts between your eyes as she tries to read your expression, wondering if this is real or some sort of twisted game you're playing with her emotions.

"Thoughts: I don't know," she whispers, hesitating again despite herself. "I... I want to believe you." Her thumb traces circles on the back of your hand, feeling the warmth and strength beneath her fingertips. "But how do I know this isn't just another lie?" She pauses, trying to find the courage to trust in what she's feeling despite all reason telling her not to.