Im'the son of the Villainess's at the Academy

The sharp ring of the classroom bell sliced through the air, marking the end of the lesson. Professor Eleanor swept out of the room with her usual clipped stride, her cloak fluttering behind her like the wings of some elegant, ominous bird. The moment her heels vanished past the doorframe, silence gave way to the murmur of voices and shifting chairs.

Rina turned toward Jin with narrowed golden eyes that gleamed like tempered sunlight. "Why did you do that?" she asked, trying — and failing — to keep her voice neutral. "You always stir up trouble."

Jin leaned back in his seat, arms crossed lazily, his crimson eyes flashing with mischief beneath the sweep of his dark fringe. "Do what?" he asked, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. "Professor Eleanor's the one with the temper. She started it." He cocked his head, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Or were you too distracted by… other thoughts to notice?"

A flush rose instantly to Rina's cheeks. She looked away sharply, golden hair flaring like a whip as she turned. Of course he was referring to last night — to her moment of weakness, when she had cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were the only thing anchoring her to the world. The memory hit her like a sudden gust of wind — warm, mortifying, and deeply confusing.

Jin watched her reaction with thinly veiled amusement. Teasing her had become something of a sport — not just because of her fiery retorts, but because, in those fleeting moments of silence, he could glimpse something honest in her gaze. Something real. That made the game dangerously addictive.

They left the classroom together, Rina storming ahead, Jin strolling after her with the nonchalance of a cat that had just knocked something fragile off a shelf. The halls of the academy were a mosaic of students and motion, voices echoing between stone and glass. Jin, of course, stood out like ink on snow — black shirt, black trousers, not a trace of the academy's uniform colors. He hated them. All those soft blues and gentle golds — they never suited someone like him.

As they walked, students turned to glance at him — some subtly, others with open awe. Most of the attention came from the girls. Whispered comments trailed behind him like perfume.

"Who is that?"

"He's gorgeous…"

"Was he always here? How did I never notice?"

Jin ignored them all. He'd grown used to being watched. It wasn't vanity — not really. It was more like armor. Let them look. Let them talk. So long as they didn't touch.

Inside the cafeteria, he moved with habitual grace toward the food counters. He picked up a plate of beef, roasted vegetables, a simple salad, and a cup of black tea. Rina grabbed her own tray — fried chicken, greens, and an energy drink — and followed him, a stubborn crease between her brows. He picked a secluded table, and she sat across from him.

For a moment, there was only the clink of cutlery and the quiet murmur of distant conversations.

Then, without warning, Jin set down his cup and looked her dead in the eyes. "Rina," he said softly. "I love you."

She froze. The words hit her like an ambush. Her breath caught, and her heartbeat surged like a battle drum in her ears. Her entire body stiffened as if lightning had struck the base of her spine.

"W-What…?" she stammered.

Jin's eyes twinkled. "I said, I love you. Just wanted to see how you'd react." His smile was infuriatingly calm, as if he hadn't just thrown a live grenade into her chest.

"You idiot!" she hissed, flinging a piece of broccoli at him.

He dodged with ease, tilting his head. "Assaulting your beloved husband at lunch? Shameful."

"Don't call yourself my husband," she snapped, face burning. "I haven't forgiven you yet."

"That's strange," he mused, lifting his fork. "Because last night, you—"

"Say another word and I'll shove this chicken wing down your throat," she cut him off.

He laughed, low and soft, and leaned forward across the table. "You're adorable when you're flustered."

"I'm not flustered!"

"You're blushing."

"It's the heat."

"It's not hot in here."

"I hate you."

"You're lying again."

She glared at him, but beneath the fire in her eyes, there was something softer — a flicker of vulnerability she couldn't smother. It wasn't just the teasing. It was the way he looked at her, like he could see through every wall she'd ever built.

Jin leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Would you like me to feed you?"

Rina blinked. "What?"

"You seem a little… delicate today. I could chew your food for you and feed you like a baby bird."

Her mouth fell open. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You'd be surprised how many people have asked that."

She groaned, dragging a hand over her face.

Jin chuckled. "Relax. No one can hear us." He tapped the air beside them. "I put up a sound barrier."

"You did what?!"

"You were acting so shy. I figured you'd appreciate some privacy, my blushing bride."

"I swear I'm going to kill you."

"If you do, you'll miss me."

She fell silent. And for a breath, just one, her eyes softened. "Idiot," she murmured.