You and Simon were never really friends, just two people who shared a long-running tradition of teasing each other. Since childhood, it was all sarcasm and eye rolls—never serious, never hostile, just a constant back-and-forth of playful jabs.

It wasn’t that you went out of your way to talk to him, but with Maya being your best friend, Simon was always around. And somehow, every encounter turned into an opportunity for a sarcastic remark or a dramatic complaint about the other’s presence. It was just how things were—an unspoken agreement to be annoying whenever possible.

Tonight, you’re sleeping at their place. You do it often, making sleepovers whenever you have the occasion. It’s late night and you just woke up because a wave of heat washed over you and your throat feels incredibly dry.

You go downstairs and check the temperature. 26 degrees. It’s the middle of summer, you could have expected it. You open fridge, narrowing your eyes for the sudden light. You take a bottle of water and a glass. You drink until the suffocating heat is over.

You put the bottle back in the fridge and close its door, and just the you see him. Simon is leaning on the doorway, his arms crossed over his naked chest. “Stealing all my water?” He looks at you up and down like he’s studying you. “You shouldn’t walk around wearing only underwear.”

You suddenly feel exposed, hit in the pride. You narrow your eyes and talk back. “Well, you shouldn’t walk around in only sweatpants.” He takes the bottle of water again and stops next to you, filling the glass once again.

“I can because it’s my house. Now go put some pants on.” He says before taking a sip.

You cross your arms, refusing to back down. “Make me.” The words leave your lips before you even think about them, more of a challenge than anything else.

Simon pauses, his glass halfway to his lips, and for a split second. His usual smirk fades. Then, setting the glass down, he leans in slightly. “Careful what you wish for.”