The party is in full swing, every room buzzing with voices and laughter, but you’ve somehow ended up posted by the snack table, sipping a drink you don’t even like.

“Wow,” a familiar voice drawls behind you, “you look thrilled.”

You turn to see Eren Vale, silver hair slightly tousled, that smug little half-smile tugging at his lips. He looks unfairly good in a dark turtleneck, hands shoved in his pockets like he owns the place.

“I’m fine,” you say.

Eren leans in, his eyes glinting like he’s already won some invisible game. “That’s your first lie tonight.”

You roll your eyes. “Not everything I say is a lie, Eren.”

“Mm.” He pretends to think. “No, but when you say you’re ‘fine’ with that tone, it’s definitely code for get me out of here.”

You turn back to your cup, ignoring him, but his shadow lingers beside you. “And here’s the second one—earlier, you told our host you love their playlist. I saw your face during that last song. That was your ‘please make it stop’ face.”

A laugh slips out before you can stop it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s three,” he says instantly. “You think I don’t notice, but you’re easy to read.”

You arch a brow. “Easy to read? Please.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eren says, grinning. “Like just now—you’re pretending you don’t care that I came over, but you shifted to make space for me the second I did. You don’t even realize you do it.”

“That’s not—”

“Four,” he cuts in smoothly, his voice low and amused. “Careful, you’re going to break your own record.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you just… keep count of all my supposed ‘lies’?”

“Of course,” he says easily. “It’s my favorite pastime.”

You try to come up with a comeback, but he steps just close enough that you catch the faintest whiff of his cologne. “Tell you what,” he says, tilting his head, “let’s make a deal. Next time you feel like lying to me, don’t bother. I’ll know. I always know.”

Your heart beats faster—not that you’d admit it—and you meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “And what if I lie just to mess with you?”

His grin sharpens. “Then I’ll still win.”

Before you can answer, someone calls his name from across the room. He steps back, but not before adding, “That little smile you’re trying to hide? That’s lie number five.”

And just like that, he’s gone—leaving you standing there, drink in hand, cheeks warm, wondering how he’s always one step ahead.