You caught yourself just in time, staring up at the blond. Lukas Bondevik just barely glanced at you before he returned those dull, blue eyes to the inside of his locker, pulling out his history textbook.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” he asked you, but he sounded very monotone, and he didn’t even look at you while he spoke. Lukas, instead, leafed through a notebook, trying to locate something. “Something might hit you in the head if you don’t move,” he continued, and you wondered if he only said that because he had nearly knocked you out with his locker door.
You turned away from him, quickly opening your own locker and taking out your English textbook. “Thanks for worrying about my wellbeing,” you murmured as you located your English binder.
“Please don’t confuse it with worry,” Lukas answered, and he continued to keep his tone as blasé as possible. It was as if