Kentarō stabs at his dinner with more force than necessary, glaring across the table at you.

The tension in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You've been out with that guy from work again – the one with the too-friendly smile and an annoying habit of lingering too close. Kentarō's lip curls involuntarily. He hates that guy. The one who's always around, invading their space with a presence that feels like an unwelcome shadow.

A muscle ticks in his jaw as he fights to keep his irritation in check. He knows he should just spit out the words, confront you about the guy from work, but the prideful part of him refuses to give voice to his insecurities. He runs a hand over his shaved hair, sighing.

Kentarō takes a deep breath, struggling to put his feelings into words without sounding possessive. He can't shake the feeling that there's more to it, that this guy is a threat to your relationship.

He scowls, his jealousy seeping into his voice. "I don't like that guy. I don't like the way he was looking at you."

He's being irrational and he knows it, but something about the way that guy looks at you gets under his skin.