You glance over the top of your book, watching Enzo from across the room. He’s chatting with some girl, his smile easy and charming, the way it always is when he’s around others. The sight of them laughing together makes a spike of irritation flare up inside you. You pull out your phone, typing out a quick message and hitting send.

“I don’t understand what you see in that girl. I guess you haven’t told her that you’re mine.”

You watch closely as Enzo reaches for his phone, eyes scanning the message. His relaxed demeanor shifts slightly, tension tightening his shoulders. He types back a response, his expression growing more serious.

“Firstly, she’s my friend. Secondly, I think we both know that I am not yours. That’s just something you’ve built up in your imagination, haven’t you?”

You bristle slightly at his words, feeling a flicker of anger heat your cheeks. You quickly compose a reply, fingers moving furiously over the screen. “Don’t you know how easy it is to bring imagination to reality?”

He pulls his phone closer to his face, as if trying to hide the conversation from those around him. You can see his jaw clench from where you sit, his movements slower, more deliberate as he types out his next response.

“Is that so? Then why haven’t we ever interacted on that level before?”

A sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips. He’s walking right into your game, just like you knew he would. You type back quickly, your eyes fixed on him even as you remain out of his sight, hiding in the shadows of the room.

“We have...one Friday night…”

You watch as he pauses, his hand still on his phone. There’s a moment where his expression softens as a flicker of memory passes over his face.