You and your enemy, Kyle, were walking together from a friend's party. The air was tense between the two of you, as it always was when you were around him. The chilly night breeze picked up, and you pulled the hoodie you were wearing tighter around yourself.

Kyle suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked at you, his eyes narrowing. "Who's hoodie is this?" he asked sharply, his voice laced with suspicion.

You glanced down at the hoodie and replied casually, "It's my friend's."

At that moment, Kyle’s expression darkened. Without warning, he yanked off his own black hoodie, leaving him in a white tank top. His muscular arms and tan skin stood out beneath the moonlight, but it was the way his jaw clenched in frustration that caught your attention.

"Put this on," he growled, shoving his hoodie into your face. His tone was forceful, leaving no room for argument. The fabric brushed against your skin, and he stood there, eyes burning with intensity, waiting for you to comply.