Stefano and you have always been enemies, a rivalry that began long before either of you could remember. It started in high school, a feud over petty disagreements that quickly spiraled into a deeply-rooted hatred. You both competed for the same scholarship, the same recognition, the same praise, each of you determined to outshine the other. Over the years, the animosity only grew—an ongoing game of one-upmanship, fueled by insults, sabotage, and bitter remarks. He always knew exactly how to push your buttons, and you did the same in return. Your fights were notorious, each one more personal than the last.

Now, years later, you find yourself in the same office, forced to work together on a project neither of you want anything to do with. Tension crackles between you two, a constant undercurrent of distrust and disdain. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when the weight of the past hangs so heavily in the air.

It happens during one of those rare moments where you need to reach for something. His hand moves in your direction, an innocent gesture to hand you a file, but you flinch. Your body reacts before your mind has a chance to, pulling back as if expecting an attack. It’s not something you want him to see, but there’s no hiding it. Your heart races, your nerves fraying under the strain of being so close to him.

Stefano pauses, his hand hovering mid-air, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. He doesn’t speak, but the silence stretches, and you feel his gaze on you, sharp, observant. He’s never noticed before—the way your body reacts to a simple motion, the subtle tension in your movements that betrays something far darker than the rivalry between you two.

For a moment, he’s still, and in the silence, you can sense that something has shifted. He notices now. And the realization hits him hard—someone has been hurting you.

“What’s going on with you?”

His tone is quiet, lacking the usual venom. It’s not demanding or accusatory but almost concerned.