The Scholarship Girl Tried to Play the Savior Chapter 2

Liam and I locked eyes in the tense silence.

Three seconds later, I suddenly stepped into his personal space.

"Liam, my darling fiancé. How come you only saw the little innocent flower crying, but you completely missed the burn on my leg?"

Only then did Liam lower his gaze to my legs.

He looked down and saw the angry red patch on my pale calf, still dotted with droplets of almond milk.

I casually took a seat at an empty desk nearby, crossing my left leg and swinging it slightly so he could get a good look.

Before Liam could say a word, Mia suddenly lunged forward, throwing herself between us. She screamed at me:

"I—I know you're rich and powerful, but I won't allow you to bully him!"

With tears streaming down her face, she looked like a martyr suffering for love.

I hadn't even done anything yet, and here she was, screaming at me like a lunatic.

My temper flared. "Are you psycho?"

Mia didn't answer. She just looked at Liam with big, pitiful, tear-filled eyes.

Oh, two can play that game.

I kept my mouth shut, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared at Liam.

Liam let out a nearly inaudible sigh.

He grabbed a tissue, crouched down, and wrapped one hand around my ankle. His grip was firm.

The rest of the class, completely used to this dynamic, went back to whatever they were doing.

With lowered eyes, his long lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks, Liam meticulously and gently wiped the sticky residue off my leg.

After several passes, a faint stinging sensation returned.

My skin was incredibly sensitive. If he kept rubbing, he was going to peel a layer off.

"Stop," I frowned, annoyed. "Liam, that hurts."

I tugged my leg twice, but I couldn't break free. Instead, his grip tightened.

Liam looked up. His eyes were like a dark abyss, practically swallowing me whole.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

His intense stare made me uncomfortable, and my first instinct was to escape.

Without thinking, I kicked out lightly, leaving a distinct half-footprint right on his crisp, pristine white uniform shirt.

Liam had severe OCD and was a massive neat freak.

Looking at the glaring smudge on his shirt, I felt a twinge of guilt. "I just wanted you to let go."

Even though I felt bad, I kept my chin high, maintaining my arrogant facade. I glared at him fiercely. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah," Liam's voice was slightly hoarse. "I'll let go."

He stood up, completely ignoring the dirt on his shirt, and looked down at the dented tumbler that had rolled next to my desk.

Mia seized the opportunity.

She scrambled to pick up the tumbler, cradling it in her hands. She looked up at Liam and stammered, "I brought you warm almond milk this morning. I wanted to put it in your cup, but—"

She shot a rapid, meaningful glance at me, acting as if she had been forced into silence. "Anyway, it fell on the floor and got dented."

Liam looked at her blankly. "Got it."

His voice was flat and slow.

But Mia was overjoyed just to get a response. She held the cup out to him with both hands.

Liam took the tumbler. In the very next second, he brushed past her, walked straight to the trash can, and tossed the expensive tumbler inside.

Leaving Mia staring in absolute shock, he walked out the back door of the classroom.

A few minutes later, Liam returned carrying a pair of delicate, black designer flats—my backup shoes from my private locker.

He crouched down, meeting my dazed eyes. "Change your shoes."

Mia's face turned beet red with rage. She rudely pointed a finger at me, then screamed at the crouching Liam, "Liam! Are you her dog?!"

Liam kept his head down, completely deaf to her words.

Looking at Mia practically stomping her feet in frustration, I raised an eyebrow. "Liam, I think she feels sorry for you."

"Yeah. And?" Liam looked up, his gaze locking onto mine. "What do you think?"

He was as cold and indifferent as ever.

I blinked, flashing a wicked little smile. "I have no idea."