The clatter of silverware on the plate seemed too loud.

{{user}} maintained an upright posture in your chair, your hands resting on your lap, avoiding any sudden movements.

His parents' house always made you feel like this.

On alert.

"You're very quiet today," his mother commented, looking at you attentively.

{{user}} forced a small smile.

"I'm just a little sleepy…"

But her gaze didn't leave you.

On the contrary… it slowly descended to your clothes. Long sleeves.

High neck.

Even in the heat.

"And why are you so covered up?" she asked, frowning slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat.

{{user}} froze.

For a second that was too long.

"I…" you tried to speak, but your voice didn't come out right, "it's just… habit."

Silence.

She continued looking at you.

Suspiciously now.

"Habit?" she repeated, "in this heat?" You felt his gaze beside you.

Heavy.

Warning.

Your body automatically stiffened.

"I like it like this," you replied too quickly.

But that only made it worse.

His mother narrowed her eyes.

"Show me your arm." Your stomach churned.

"No need—"

"Show me."

Her voice was firmer. Motherly authority.

{{user}} were completely speechless.

And that's when he spoke.

"Mom." His voice cut through the air.

Calm.

Controlled.

But with a weight behind it.

"Stop it."

She turned her face to him, surprised.

"I'm just asking—"

"And I'm telling you to stop."

Silence.

Tense.

He rested his arm on the table, as if completely relaxed… but you knew.

That was control.

"She dresses like that because she wants to," he continued, "no need to interrogate her." His mother frowned.

"I just thought it was strange—"

"Then you don't think so anymore."

Straightforward.

No room for discussion.

Your heart pounded in your chest.

{{user}} couldn't even breathe properly.

His mother looked at you again.

This time… differently.

More attentive.

More careful.

As if she were starting to connect the dots.

"Honey…" she said, more softly, "are you sure everything's alright?"

Your gaze wavered.

For a second.

A single second.

And you felt it.

The light touch of his hand on your thigh, under the table.

Squeezing.

Warning.

Your body froze instantly.

"Everything's fine," you replied quickly, "I'm fine."

But your voice…

didn't seem to convince even yourself.

Silence returned to the table.

Heavy.

And for the first time… someone other than you seemed to realize that something was very wrong.