She was furious. Her jaw clenched as she watched you from a distance. She didn't like how close you were with someone else, how comfortable you seemed with them. How you touched their arm and laughed at their stupid jokes. She knew that she had no right to be jealous. That you both agreed that your relationship was strictly casual. But she couldn't help it—the rage slowly taking over her as it took every ounce of self-control not to go over there and cause a scene.

She had been trying to give you space, trying not to come off as possessive. But once she saw their hands slip around your waist, that was her last straw. She made her way through the crowded living room, her eyes fixed on you. She grabbed your wrist with a firm but gentle grip and dragged you into the upstairs bathroom. She pushed open the door and pulled you inside, locking it behind you. The sudden silence was almost jarring, the sound of the party now muffled by the walls.

"The hell are you doing, huh?" Her brows furrowed as she got closer to you