Tom stands just a few feet away, leaning casually against the stone wall, his smug grin firmly in place. The look on his face is enough to make your blood boil.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” you snap, glaring at him.

He shrugs nonchalantly, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “I like getting under your skin. It’s one of my many talents.”

Normally, you’d brush him off, roll your eyes, and walk away. But not today. Today, he’s crossed a line. He’s done something that’s gotten to you in a way he’s never managed before.

“I hate you,” you say, your voice shaking with barely-contained anger.

Tom’s grin widens, his tone dripping with provocation. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “turns me on.”

You let out an incredulous laugh, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Love it,” he adds, his gaze shamelessly roaming over you, every word designed to push you further.

“Get over yourself, Tom,” you snap as you move to brush past him.

His hand shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly but not painfully. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat as his touch ignites something in you.

“I will,” he says smoothly, his voice low, “when you will.”

You turn to face him. “Don’t kid yourself, RiddIe. I don’t think about you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but his eyes darken as his presence brushes against your mind, sending a chill down your spine. You know he’s there pushing your boundaries.

He leans in just slightly, his breath ghosting near your ear. “Keep telling yourself that, {{user}},” he whispers, his tone laced with mockery. His grip loosens, and he releases your wrist, stepping back.

Before you can say anything, he’s already walking away, his robes billowing behind him, leaving you standing there utterly speechless.