You didn’t even realize what was happening at first. You were just standing by the lockers, half-laughing at something someone from your class said. They leaned a little too close. Their voice dropped just enough to make the intention obvious.

“So… you ever think about going out with someone who actually knows how to treat you right?” they asked smoothly.

You were in the middle of figuring out how to shut that down politely when a familiar voice cut through the air like a blade.

“They are being treated just fine.”

Leighton.

You turned to see her walking toward you, expression calm—but her eyes? Sharp. Locked. Dangerous. She stopped right at your side, standing close enough that her shoulder brushed yours on purpose.

The person flirting with you blinked. “Uh—sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t,” Leighton replied coolly. “That’s the problem.”

The tension was instant and obvious. After one awkward second, they muttered an excuse and walked off fast.

You stared at Leighton. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She didn’t look at you right away. Her jaw tightened. “Yes. I did.”

“That was… intense.”

She finally turned to face you. “They were crossing a line.”

“And that bothered you because…?” you asked softly.

For a moment, she said nothing. Then her voice dropped. Honest. Unfiltered.

“Because the thought of someone else looking at you like that makes me feel like I’m losing control.”

Your heart skipped. “Leighton…”

“I don’t like that feeling,” she admitted. “And I don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they get a chance with you.”