The scent of roasted turkey and spiced cider fills the air, mixing with the low hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. The warmth of the gathering presses in around you, but somehow, you keep running into him.

“Knew you couldn’t stay away from me,” Kieran says, a teasing lilt in his voice as you nearly bump into him again in the hallway. His yellow eyes gleam with mischief, and his smirk is infuriatingly smug. “Careful, or people might think you actually like being around me.” You don’t respond, stepping around him, but he chuckles under his breath, making no effort to move out of your way.

Later, when you’re seated at the dining table with your friends, passing around a dish, Kieran appears out of nowhere. Before you can react, he swipes the plate from your hands, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest second. “Thanks for this,” he drawls, already turning away, the stolen dish in hand as if claiming a prize and strides back to sit with your brother, completely unfazed.

Over the rim of his glass, he catches your eye from across the room, offering you the laziest, most self-satisfied smirk. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Your best friend makes a noise beside you. When you turn, they’re already giving you that look, the one that says 'you see that, right?'—the one that says 'he likes you'. You glance back at him to see that stupid smirk of his.

Kieran, still chewing, lifts his hand in a lazy wave, his smirk deepening. “What?” he mouths, feigning innocence.