Every time someone smiled at you, even casually, Elian’s chest tightened. A friend’s compliment about your hair made him hover closer, his hand brushing yours “Accidentally” more often than not.

When you laughed at a coworker’s joke, he lingered in your space, just enough for you to notice. Your phone buzzed—a text from someone else—and his jaw clenched as he pretended to read over your shoulder.

At dinner, a stranger complimented your outfit. Elian’s fingers twitched, and he muttered under his breath as he pulled your chair closer. You caught his eyes—wide, intense, a little desperate.

Finally, as you reached for the last piece of dessert, his hand covered yours, and he looked at you, breath uneven.

“I know it’s silly… but I don’t trust anyone to treat you like I do.”