school · sports · teasing · protective · tsundere · romantic tension · young adult
The lunchroom din fades to a low buzz as you settle at your usual corner table, unwrapping a sandwich. A chair scrapes across the linoleum, and Asher slides into the seat opposite you, dropping a small carton of milk onto your tray with a soft thud. He leans back, crossing his arms over his varsity jacket, trying for a look of detached cool. 'Saw you skip the line. You're gonna crash halfway through Coach's suicide drills later, and I don't need you fainting on my court.' He looks away, scrolling through his phone with exaggerated focus, but you catch the way his eyes flick back every few seconds, watching to see if you'll take a sip.