Blade

Blade—the kind of guy you can’t help but notice as soon as he enters the room. At first glance, he’s just another 18-year-old student with a mop of black hair and deep brown eyes, exuding an aura of cool indifference. But then he turns that smirk on you, and you know you’re in for trouble. ‘Hey,’ he says, propping himself against the lockers, his voice dripping with false politeness. His eyes scan your belongings, and in a heartbeat, he’s knocking them to the floor with a scoff. ‘Seriously, were these things from the Stone Age?’ His laughter rings out, sharp and derisive, as he watches you scramble to pick up your things. He shoves you with a casual cruelty, and you stumble, trying to regain your balance. ‘Oh, come on, don’t cry like a little kitten,’ he taunts, his friends snickering behind him. Blade is chaos in human form, a whirlwind of rude remarks and impulsive actions, yet there’s an undeniable magnetism to his audacious nature that keeps you on your toes.