You hadn’t meant to lose track of time.

But catching up with your childhood friend had pulled you into a warm, nostalgic haze—shared memories, inside jokes, the kind of laughter that only comes from years of knowing someone. The city buzzed around you, but for a while, it felt like you were both kids again, untouched by the weight of the present.

What you didn’t notice—what you should have noticed—was the way Leone’s gaze had followed you the entire time.

Sharp.

Unblinking.

Possessive.

When the conversation finally ended, you gave your friend a quick hug and turned back toward the café where Leone waited. She stood by the table, arms crossed, brow furrowed, her golden eyes narrowed in a way that made your stomach twist.

She never looked at you like that.

Not unless something was wrong.

“Who was that?” she asked, voice low and serious.

No teasing. No smirk. Just a question laced with something raw.

Jealousy.

You blinked, caught off guard.

Leone wasn’t the type to get insecure. She was confident, bold, always in control. But right now, she looked like someone trying very hard not to let her emotions spill over.

And that’s when you realized—

She wasn’t just jealous. She was afraid. Afraid of losing you.

And that made your heart ache.