Leo Taylor, who had been watching the chaos from a distance with a calm, unreadable expression, finally took a step forward.
And that one step?
It was enough to flip the entire cafeteria upside down.
"Leo!"
"Leo Taylor!"
"He’s even more handsome up close..."
"Look at those eyes—like cold steel. I swear, I could stare into them for hours..."
The moment he moved, the atmosphere shifted.
A chorus of gasps and dreamy sighs echoed from the tables around us as nearly every girl in the room stopped mid-bite to turn their heads. Eyes sparkled. Forks clattered to trays. It was like some divine being had descended among us, bathed in cafeteria lighting.
Meanwhile, the guys?
They weren’t nearly as subtle.
Grumbles and side-eyes. Jealous whispers under their breath. One of them even muttered something about "damn main characters" like he was personally offended by Leo’s face.
But the ones who were paling the fastest were the three morons who had started all this. You could practically see the color drain from their faces.
Their expressions twisted into forced smiles as they stumbled over themselves to explain.
"L-Leo! It’s not what it looks like! We were just—"
Leo didn’t even let him finish.
His voice cut through the cafeteria like a blade dipped in ice.
"What? Are you my friend or something? Why are you acting like we’re close?"
The guy’s mouth opened again, but no words came out.
Leo’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. The entire room went still, as if even the air decided to pause.
"...But we’re in the same class," the idiot finally muttered, like that somehow gave him license to talk.
Leo narrowed his eyes. "So being in the same class means we’re friends now? That’s new. Because I don’t even remember seeing your face before today."
Boom.
That was it.
The poor guy looked like someone had just pulled the ground out from under him. Frozen in place, red-faced, humiliated beyond repair. If I had gutted his pride earlier, Leo just drop-kicked the corpse for good measure.
Honestly? It was hard not to admire it.
These punks should’ve known better. Leo hated this kind of behavior—hated the fake bravado, the bullying, the entitlement. And yet his so-called ’follower’ had clearly forgotten that.
Or maybe never knew him at all.
Leo looked them over once more, his disgust barely hidden now.
"What are you still doing here?" he asked, his voice low.
"H-Huh?" one of them stammered.
"I told you already. You’ve ruined my appetite just by existing near me. So get lost."
Whoa.
There it was.
The real Leo Taylor.
The one I had almost forgotten existed.
He wasn’t the charming, softly-spoken student who helped clean up after training or gave friendly nods in class. No, this was Leo in his true form—the one who didn’t walk away when someone ruined his lunch, but removed the problem entirely.
A walking storm wrapped in elegance and fury.
Leo Taylor, the one and only.
In the original novel, this side of him was usually softened or blocked by Ryen, who always played peacemaker and stopped Leo before things escalated too far. Readers online would always rant about it—"Let him finish what he started!" they’d say.
But today?
Ryen just stood there, arms crossed, watching with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"As expected," he muttered. "Still a good guy underneath, even if he’s got the subtlety of a sledgehammer."
And honestly?
He wasn’t wrong.
Leo was rough, sharp, and more than a little terrifying—but he never stepped in without a reason.
He didn’t pick fights. He ended them.
And right now?
He was doing me a favor, even if he’d never admit it.
The three troublemakers stood frozen for a moment longer, as if still deciding whether to grovel or sprint.
Leo’s gaze didn’t waver. His arms were crossed, his stance relaxed—but there was a tension in his frame that screamed: Make one more move. I dare you.
They made the right choice.
Without another word, the trio turned and walked off, heads bowed and shoulders hunched like scolded dogs. The cafeteria quietly parted around them, some students pretending not to stare, others openly watching like it was a reality show playing out in real-time.
I leaned against the edge of the table, arms folded, hiding a smirk.
"Well," I said, loud enough for them to hear as they scurried out, "that was almost entertaining. Maybe next time they’ll try stand-up comedy. At least then they’ll get booed off a stage instead of escorted out by social death."
A few snorts and chuckles escaped nearby.
Leo turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine.
There was no smile, but there was something else—maybe curiosity. Maybe recognition. A flicker of something beneath those steel-grey eyes.
He walked over, the crowd around us slowly returning to their trays like the scene had officially ended.
"Thanks for that," I said, trying not to sound too sarcastic.
"You were handling it fine," he replied, voice even. "I just got tired of hearing their voices."
"Huh. So you’re saying you did it for yourself, not for me?"
Leo gave me a look. "Don’t flatter yourself."
I let out a soft laugh. "Fair enough."
We stood in silence for a few seconds.
Not awkward. Not comfortable either. Just... still.
Then, without turning his head, Leo asked, "You always that sharp with your words?"
I shrugged. "Only when I’m pissed off or cornered. Or when someone thinks ’loser’ is still a clever insult."
He didn’t respond right away, but I noticed the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth—like a smile was fighting to surface and just barely lost the battle.
Then, finally, he said, "Don’t let idiots like them get under your skin. They’re not worth your time."
"Yeah, but humiliating them kind of was."
Leo didn’t reply, but his silence felt more like agreement than disapproval.
After another beat, he added, "If they bother you again, let me know."
"I told you, I can take care of it."
"I’m not doing this for free, I’m doing you favour, so in future you would join my team."
That caught me off guard.
"I thought you said you didn’t do favors."
"I don’t," he said flatly. "But I can’t enjoy lunch with morons howling in the background. And this is the best way to feel debated towards me."
I scoffed. "Right. It’s all about your peace and quiet."
"Exactly."
He turned to leave, but paused a step later.
"You’re not weak, by the way. They think you are, but they’re wrong."
And just like that, he walked off, hands in his pockets, his silver hair catching the light as the whispers and stares followed him out.
I stood there for a moment, watching him go, trying to piece together what just happened.
Leo Taylor.
The arrogant prince of the academy.
Was this character development?
Either way, it seemed like things were about to get a lot more complicated.
And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.
Either way It wasn’t me who defeated them but who cares? As long as I got satisfying result I don’t care either way.