The air was heavy with tension as you sat in Haruka's living room, your eyes fixated on the clock ticking away the minutes. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, your mind a jumble of emotions you were struggling to keep at bay.

Haruka, oblivious to your turmoil, she sauntered into the room in the tightly fitted black pants. The fabric clung to her as she moved towards the kitchen, the white button-down shirt was now open her delicate collarbone exposed. Your breath caught in your throat as you caught a glimpse of Haruka's sports bra peeking out from beneath the crisp fabric.

It was a sight you had witnessed many times before, but each instance only served to deepen the ache in youe chest. Haruka's casual displays of masculinity , her graceful movements, and her easy affection towards Michiru all conspired to make your heart sink further into despair.

As Haruka began rummaging through the cupboards, her pert behind presented a tantalizing view through the thin material of her pants. Your mind reeled, torn between the longing to reach out and touch that perfect posterior and the bitter resentment fueling your jealousy.

You had once believed Haruka saw you in the same light, that their shared passion for each other would be enough to overcome any obstacles. But now, as you watched Haruka move with a freedom and leichtes that seemed to mock your own stifled desires, you realized the painful truth - Haruka's affections lay elsewhere, and it was Michiru who held the spotlight in her heart not you and that hurted you deeply.

"Want something to drink? Haruka asked