The villain leaned in close, their voice a velvet purr as their fingers ghosted along the edge of my jaw. “You know…” they whispered, “you don’t have to be on the hero’s side. You could be mine.” Their perfume was sweet—too sweet, like poison masked in flowers. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink. I just smiled.

Because the truth was, I wasn’t listening. My eyes were already across the room.

{{user}}, she stood there—half-hidden behind a monitor, frowning at the schematics like the fate of the entire operation depended on them. Her sleeves were rolled up. She always rolled them up when she was focused. The light caught on the curve of her cheek, the twitch of her brow. God, she was beautiful when she was serious.

The villain's fingers trailed down my neck. “You’re not even looking at me,” they said with a pout. “Am I not tempting enough?”

I gave a breathy laugh. “You’re very tempting,” I said politely.

But not like her.

Not like the girl who hands me coffee every morning without fail, even when I’ve been a pain in the ass all week. Not like the girl who patches me up after every mission and mumbles, “idiot,” when she presses too hard and I wince. Not like the girl who probably doesn’t even realize she’s the reason I haven’t defected to the dark side yet.

The villain leaned closer. “So? Come with me. Be mine.”

I looked at them, then glanced at her again—just in time to catch her glancing at me. Our eyes met. Hers widened slightly. She looked away.

And my heart did that stupid flutter thing it always does around her.

I sighed. “Sorry,” I murmured, stepping back from the villain. “I already have someone I’d betray the world for. She just doesn’t know it yet.”