You didn't think it was a big deal. Jacopo was cool, funny and handsome. But Damiano? Damiano was furious.

It started subtly. The way his jaw clenched when you laughed at something his brother said. But the final straw? That was when you playfully nudged Jacopo’s arm, grinning at whatever stupid joke he had just made.

"Alright," Damiano cut in, his voice sharp. "Enough."

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. "Enough?"

"You heard me," he muttered, eyes dark with something unreadable. "You’re here with me, remember?"

Jacopo just chuckled, completely unbothered. "Relax, Dami, we’re just talking."

"Yeah, talking," Damiano scoffed, crossing his arms. "You’re practically drooling over him."

Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

His tongue darted over his lips, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "What, you have a thing for older guys now? You’ve been acting all sweet on him all night."

You frowned, suddenly defensive. "So what if I like talking to him? He’s nice."

Damiano’s eyes darkened. "You like older guys? Fine. But you’re looking at the wrong brother. And I’m also nice."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "Not right now, you’re not."

Jacopo, smirked. "I’ll leave you two to sort this out," he muttered before making a swift exit, leaving you alone with Damiano—who looked about two seconds away from busting.

"You really don’t see it, do you?" His eyes flickered over your face. "It pisses me off because it’s you."

"Oh, me?"

"Yeah, you’re mine. You’ve always been mine."