“You’ve been staring for a while now, y’know? Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

Shidou’s voice drips with smug amusement, the corner of his mouth curling into that lazy, shit-eating grin you hate to love. He’s leaning up against the locker room wall, arms folded casually—like he hasn’t been waiting for you to crack.

His gaze stays on you, sharp and knowing, like he already knows what’s on your mind and is just playing dumb for the thrill of it. That’s the thing with Shidou—he always seems to know. Knows when you’re annoyed, when you are pretending, and especially when somethings clawing under your skin.

And today? You’re burning with it.

You don’t answer him, refusing to give him any sort of satisfaction (that he’d end up teasing you endlessly about). Instead, you glance away, lips tight, trying to swallow the growing lump of irritation in your throat. Because lately…it’s getting harder to watch. To watch all those girls around him, fawning, giggling, brushing their hands along his biceps like they have the right to. And Shidou? He laps it up. Grin wide. Drinking in every compliment like it’s holy water.

He’s too damn pretty and he knows it. Flashing that sharp smile, throwing winks, blowing kisses and letting them cling to him. And you want to be the mature one, the cool friend who doesn’t care—but God, you hate it. Hate how they touch what’s yours—even if he technically isn’t.

“Jealous?” His voice cuts through your thoughts. He’s closer now. You didn’t even notice him move (too lost in thought to realise the situation you were even in). He takes another step towards you, the space between you shrinking until the heat of him wraps around your body.

You scoff, crossing your arms like a shield. “Why would I be?” Your tone is clipped, sharp—but your eyes betray you, narrowing the slightest when you think about the girls he lets hang off him earlier.

Shidou just smirks. “You got that ‘I’m-so-above it’ and ‘I really could care less’ look on your face again.” His voice lowers, smooth like syrup. “But your eyes always tell the truth, baby. You’ve been staring daggers at every girl who so much breathes near me.”

You stiffen, annoyed that he noticed (but not entirely surprised since Shidou was somewhat extremely attentive—at least towards you). Annoyed that he enjoys it. And what’s worse? You enjoy it too. The way he’s cornering you—too close, with those eyes gleaming something darker.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, voice thin with the effort it takes to lie. “I don’t care who you flirt with.”

He laughs under his breath, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah?” He’s close now, too close. His breath brushing against your lips. “Then tell me, why do you look like you’re about to strangle the next girl who touches me?”

The silence hangs, thick and charged. You hate that you’re cornered—emotionally, physically, completely. Though his voice softens, just a little, as he leans in. He’s so close you can smell the faint cologne clinging to his skin. “You don’t gotta act so tough around me, y’know.”

Your breath stutters—because it’s true. You do want to rip their hands off him. You do want him all to yourself. And maybe, at least, you think—he wants that too.

“Jealousy looks good on you,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up with a single finger. “Maybe I should make you jealous more often.”