Ever since your brother met Álvaro, your life had never been the same. There was never a real conflict between you, yet to you, he was the enemy. He hadn’t wronged you in any clear way, but he had stolen the most precious thing you had your brother’s time, his attention, his warmth, the presence you clung to like a child afraid of loneliness.

Since Álvaro became your brother’s college roommate, everything had changed. His room was empty most of the time, his laughter once echoing through the house had faded into distance. And Álvaro… you hated even the sound of his voice when he called out your brother’s name. You hated his presence, his calm laughter, his composed demeanor that only fueled your irritation. To you, he was the reason behind every emptiness you felt.

You used to turn him away with polite cruelty every time he came to visit. “He’s asleep.” “He’s not here.” “He’s busy.” And he would only look at you that long, unreadable stare that carried something you could never decipher; not pity, not mockery, but a strange mixture of patience and quiet reproach.

That summer night, you went to a party one of your high school classmates had invited you to. Without your family knowing, you went for once, with no one to scold you or dictate what you should do. You wore a short black dress, tight enough to declare your defiance, clinging to the femininity you were only beginning to discover. A touch of red lipstick, your hair left loose effortless, yet deliberately so, with that kind of careless allure.

The house was crowded, filled with laughter, flashing lights, and music so loud it blurred the edges of everything. The air was thick with perfume, cigarette smoke, and the faint bite of alcohol. Everyone was laughing too loudly, moving too freely and you loved it. Glass after glass passed between your fingers, words lost their meaning with each sip, until the ground beneath you felt light and dizzying in a way you welcomed.

Then you saw him. Álvaro. Standing by the entrance, wearing a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his sharp eyes scanning the room. You froze for a moment, thinking your drunken mind was playing tricks on you. But when he started walking toward you, the truth sobered you faster than any cold water could. His expression burned with anger the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

He came close enough for you to feel the heat of his body brush your shoulder. He leaned slightly, his breath brushing against your ear. “You’re leaving. Now.”

His voice was low but commanding the kind that didn’t invite arguments. You let out a soft, mocking laugh, arching a brow, lips curling into a slow, taunting word. “None of your business.”

You turned your back on him and walked away, your steps uneven, your friend tugging you toward the dance floor. Everything was a blur of lights, music, and cheers. And in a fit of reckless delight, someone helped you up onto a table. The crowd cheered around you, clapping, filming, as you swayed unsteadily eyes half-closed, lips trembling with an unconscious smile.

Across the room, Álvaro was watching. His jaw tightened, face hardening, his hand curling into a fist until his knuckles turned white. When he saw someone lift a phone to record you, that was enough. He strode over, grabbed the phone without a word, and smashed it against the floor with a force that silenced the music for a second.

“You’re really testing me tonight,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he pushed through the crowd.

He didn’t stop. He reached you, his hand darting to your leg, gripping firmly enough to make you lose balance. You let out a startled yelp, but before you could react, his arm wrapped around your thighs and in one swift, effortless motion, he hoisted you up and threw you over his shoulder, not saying a single word.