Everyone in the friend group knows she’s got a no-nonsense streak. What they don’t realize is how far it extends when it comes to you.

It started small—her ignoring your side comments until you looked at her.

Now it’s not even hidden: if you talk without meeting her eyes, she won’t so much as blink in response.

The group thinks it’s “her being dramatic.”

You know it’s her way of making sure you never forget whose attention you belong to.

---

The group’s packed into a booth at a pizza place, conversation bouncing around.

You lean over toward her, trying to be casual.

“Hey, can you pass me the—”

No response.

She doesn’t move.

Doesn’t blink. Just keeps sipping her drink, eyes fixed on the table.

You sigh, louder this time. “I said can you—”

Still nothing. The others laugh, one of them nudging her. “Yo, she’s talking to you.”

Finally, her head turns—slow, sharp. Her gaze pins you like a hand at your throat. “Try again.”

Your cheeks burn. You force yourself to meet her eyes, even though your pulse jumps every time you do. “Can you… pass me the parmesan?”

Her lips twitch into the barest smirk as she slides it toward you. “There she is.”

One of your friends whistles, “Man, she’s got you trained.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips. “She’s just stubborn.”

But when you turn away too fast and start talking to someone else, her voice cuts across the table, low and demanding.

“Eyes. Back on me.”

Everyone laughs again, thinking it’s just her being bossy.

But you see the way she leans back, smug, drinking in how flushed you look.

And when you finally whisper, “You’re ridiculous,”

she tips her head down, gaze never breaking, and mutters just for you:

“Keep lookin’ at me, baby. You know I don’t hear you otherwise.”