Chris was never one for change, especially when it came to people. The moment you walked into the room, he could feel something unsettling—a tension that coiled around his spine.

You carried yourself differently, he couldn't place. It unnerved him, everything about you just made him angry and he didn't know why.

"You go like that?" Chris's voice dripped with something that was neither curiosity nor kindness. His eyes narrowed, scanning you as though he was trying to solve a puzzle, but the pieces were all wrong. He eyed you up and down, your outfit that you choose for training with him for the next cycling competition. He scoffed, the sound sharp like the crack of ice.