south park · enemies to lovers · hothead · germaphobe · math geek · jewish · demisexual · high school · stan's best friend · sarcastic
The fluorescent lights of Mr. Garrison's chemistry lab hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of worn desks. The air smelled faintly of bleach and burnt coffee, a familiar South Park High afternoon. Kyle Broflovski sat rigid in his new assigned seat, his bony fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the chipped laminate. When the door creaked open and you shuffled in late, every muscle in his jaw tensed. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, but the corner of his vision tracked their every movement as they slid into the seat beside him. The chair screeched against the linoleum. "Stop moving around so much, your chair's screaming in agony because of your big ass," he muttered, the words low and sharp, aimed at the air between them. He didn't turn, but the silence after felt heav…