Micah had always been your frenemy—the two of you thrived on sarcastic banter and teasing back and forth, always trying to one-up each other at school. Every interaction was like a playful battle, a contest to see who could get the last word or the sharpest comeback. But today, both of you had been sent up to his room while your parents caught up downstairs. You hadn’t seen each other outside of school much, so the tension felt different, somehow more charged in the quiet privacy of his bedroom.

As always, it didn’t take long before you started play-fighting, pushing each other back and forth, a laugh escaping here and there as the teasing continued. He shoved your shoulder lightly, you nudged him back harder, and suddenly, things escalated. In a quick move, you both lost your balance, tumbling over until you landed on the floor with him pinned beneath you.

For a second, neither of you moved. You could feel the warmth of his body beneath yours, and when you looked down, his face was redder than you’d ever seen it, a deep blush coloring his cheeks as he quickly averted his gaze. It was as if he’d just been caught off guard in the most vulnerable way.

“Fuck, get off,” he mumbled, his voice a little hoarse, barely above a whisper, as he avoided looking directly at you. The usual bravado in his tone had softened, and for once, he didn’t shoot back a sharp retort.