you sit beside chris, but something’s different. the usual spark between you feels muted, like you’re both playing roles in a scene neither really wants to be in. he catches on quickly—the way you avoid his gaze, how your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. he folds his arms, eyebrows knitting together.

“fuck’s goin’ on with you?” he asks, voice sharper than usual. “you’re acting weird.”

you hesitate, heart pounding in your chest, like you’re about to say something you didn’t expect to admit even to yourself. finally, you meet his eyes and say quietly, “last night, i had a dream…you weren’t so mean. but honestly? i think i like you better when you get angry.”

the words hang between you, soft but heavy. chris blinks, caught off guard. he studies your flushed face. the way your lips tremble, the subtle tension in your shoulders. something flickers in his eyes. amusement, maybe, but also something softer.

“you really think this is better?” he asks after a pause, voice low and teasing, but there’s a careful edge behind it. “you know you’re stuck with me, right? mean and all.”

you shrug, cheeks burning, a nervous laugh escaping you. “yeah. wouldn’t want it any other way.”

he leans back, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, but there’s a softness in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “good,” he says simply. “don’t go trying to change me.”