Some guy at the bar was flirting with the you, not that you enjoyed it, but you he was harmless, and he was already nervous. He wasn’t being creepy, really, he tried some pick up lines, bought you a drink, complimented you.. You tried to hint that you don’t want anything, but as soon as you were to tell him off—you heard a woman clear her throat. The weight of her gaze presses against your skin before you even turn to face her. - That was a few hours ago.

Now she’s in your bedroom, arms crossed, reading trough her book, her reading glasses sitting low on her nose. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, like she’s forcing herself to keep that distance — like if she gets too close, she’ll forget she’s supposed to be angry. Her jaw is set, the muscle there twitching.

“Had your fun, then?”

The words are quiet, cold, but there’s no mistaking the tension coiled underneath them. It’s not just irritation—it’s something deeper, something raw. She’s good at keeping control, at making people believe she’s unshakable, but right now? Right now, her fingers are pressing into her book like she’s keeping herself from reaching for you, dragging you back into her space, where you should have been all along.

She exhales sharply through her nose, her eyes scanning the written words in her book as she tried to distract her irritation. But she just can’t. Instead, she slammed the book on the night table, crossing her arms and looking up at you trough her lashes.

Her gaze carrying the weight of unsaid words, of jealousy still burning hot under her skin.

“You gonna sleep on the couch, or are you gonna fix this?”

It’s your chance to make up for it, she obviously wants you to say no at every man that tries anything with you.