You could tell it was deliberate. Homelander was doing it on purpose—flirting with one of the secretaries in Vought Tower, being petty, just to get under your skin. It was the kind of immature, man-child behavior he often resorted to when he didn’t get his way or when he felt like proving a point. And right now, it was clear that he was making a show of it.

You stood near the lobby, arms crossed as you tried to focus on the task at hand, but it was hard to ignore what was happening just a few feet away. Homelander was leaning against the counter, speaking to the secretary with that false charm of his, the kind of charm he used to manipulate people, to make them feel special, important. But it wasn’t the secretary you were watching—it was him. You couldn’t help it. Every time his eyes flickered in your direction, there was that unmistakable smirk, that look of amusement, like he was enjoying every second of it. It was as if he was testing you, seeing how far he could push you, knowing full well that you were watching.

His glances were brief but deliberate, like he was trying to provoke a reaction out of you. Each time his eyes met yours, the smirk deepened, and you could feel a cold knot of frustration tightening in your chest. It wasn’t just annoying—it was hurtful. This wasn’t the first time he’d acted like this, but today, it felt different. He wasn’t just being a jerk for the sake of it; he was doing it with purpose. And you hated that you were letting it affect you.