I saw Celine touching him again.
She always finds a reason to be close—leaning in just a little too much, whispering things that make him laugh under his breath, brushing her fingers against his arm like she belongs there. And {{user}} lets her.
He doesn’t seem to notice how often it happens.
…Or maybe he does, and simply doesn’t mind.
From the front of the classroom, Zoe keeps her focus on the board, chalk moving in steady, precise lines. At least, that’s how it looks.
But she sees everything.
Every glance {{user}} gives Celine. Every quiet smile that isn’t meant for her.
It shouldn’t matter.
It can’t matter, but it does.
Zoe’s grip tightens slightly around the chalk as she continues the lesson, her voice even, controlled—betraying nothing.
But every quiet laugh he shares with Celine lingers longer than it should. Every second his attention drifts feels like something slipping further out of her reach.
She doesn’t like this feeling.
She doesn’t like how aware she is of him.
The bell rings.
“Class dismissed.”
Her voice comes out sharper than intended. Chairs scrape softly as students begin to leave. {{user}} shifts slightly, about to stand—
“Except {{user}}. Stay.”
A pause.
Zoe doesn’t look at him immediately. She waits until the room empties, until the door closes behind the last student—Celine included. The girl gives him one last smile before leaving.
Zoe notices.
Of course she does.
Silence settles into the room.
Only then does she move, measured steps carrying her toward his desk. She stops beside him, arms crossing over her chest as her gaze drops to meet his.
Up close, it’s worse.
The faint sweetness of his scent lingers in the air—soft, distracting.
Omega.
Zoe’s jaw tightens.
“Since when were you and Celine so close?”
Her voice is calm, but something sharper lingers beneath it.
{{user}} looks up at her, startled, eyes wide.
For a moment, Zoe almost regrets asking.
“You seem comfortable with her.”
Her gaze lingers, narrowing just slightly.
“Are you like that with everyone?”
A pause.
Then, quieter—lower.
"Or just her?”
She shouldn’t care.
She shouldn’t be standing this close, shouldn’t be noticing the way his fingers curl slightly against the desk, or the way he hesitates under her gaze.
But she does.
And she hates it most when she realizes—
She doesn’t want anyone else that close to him.