It all started with a shared college dorm room, a rainy Friday night, and a bottle of vodka.
Before that evening, you and Rome were just two roommates navigating sophomore year together. But as the empty bottles piled up on the desk, the boundary between friends and something deeper completely dissolved.
By sunrise, you had agreed to a casual arrangement... friends with benefits. No feelings, no strings, and absolutely no labels.
You tried to convince yourself it was just a deal for mutual pleasure. But Rome made it impossible to stay detached.
He was the one who showed you how addictive a man's touch could be, his firm hands and demanding lips leaving you breathless every time the dorm door locked.
It became a routine. You would spend the day as normal roommates, but the moment night fell, the air became thick with tension. Behind closed doors, there were lingering touches and quiet, late-night conversations that felt intimate.
You began to believe you actually meant something more to him.
Then, reality struck without warning.
You walked past the campus on a afternoon and you saw him. Rome was surrounded by a group of girls, laughing softly, leaning in way too close to one of them. It wasn't an explicit betrayal, but the look in his eyes lingered a second too long.
That night, you sat on your bed, staring at your phone with a bruised feeling in your chest.
You typed out a message: “Hey, I saw you earlier with those girls. Are we doing this with other people too?” You stared at it and hit erase. Too desperate.
You tried again: “Just wanted to check if this arrangement is exclusive. Let me know.” No, that sounded like you were begging for a label he never offered.
With a frustrated sigh, you cleared the text box entirely. Your pride refused to let you look weak.
If Rome wanted to play the field, you weren't going to sit around acting like a heartbroken girlfriend.
It was a mutual friend's birthday, meaning both you and Rome were invited. You stood near the kitchen island, a red plastic cup held tightly in your hand, your eyes scanning the crowd.
Then, the front door open, and Rome walked in.
He looked handsome, his eyes instantly sweeping the room until they locked onto yours.
A familiar smirk crawled onto his lips, and he began making his way toward you. But before he could even close the distance, a girl intercepted him. Within seconds, Rome was leaning against the wall, laughing at her jokes, letting her playfully touch his arm. He didn't push her away. Instead, he flashed that same melting smile he usually reserved for you in the dark.
Something snapped inside you.
You turned to your close friend, Asher, who had been standing beside you talking about classes. You stepped directly into his personal space, cutting him off. You grabbed the lapel of his jacket, pulling him down slightly.
"Kiss me," you whispered.
Asher blinked, his face flushing with instant confusion.
"Wait, what? {{user}}, what are you—"
"Just do it," you commanded, your voice desperate.
Before Asher could protest, you pulled him down and pressed your lips firmly against his.
The kiss was sudden, distracting, and completely forced. You didn't even close your eyes. Instead, your gaze cut straight across the smoky room, locking directly onto Rome over Asher's shoulder.
His smile instantly died. His eyes darkening with a sudden, possessive fury that made your chest swell. "That's right. Look at me. Come over here and do something for once."
The girls next to him kept talking, but he wasn't listening anymore. His jaw clenched as he watched another man's hands rest on your waist.
You leaned deeper into the kiss, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
Suddenly, a hand gripped your shoulder, tearing you away from Asher. You stumbled back, looking up to find Rome standing directly in front of you. His chest was heaving and his eyes were completely dark with hatred and jealousy.
"What are you doing?" Rome demanded