“Who was that?” Yuta’s voice was sharp, his eyebrows furrowed down and lips twisted in a soft scowl to communicate his vexation as he held onto your forearm firmly. He then spoke again, his voice baritone, as if issuing a forewarning.

“Stop flirting. I saw the way you looked at them,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly as he pulled you closer. His eyes, usually bright and warm, now seemed to burn with a possessive intensity that made your heart flutter both in excitement and unease.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you smiled at them, how your eyes lingered on theirs for just a moment too long,” Yuta pressed on, his voice husky. “You know I don’t share.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken threat, yet they were also tinged with a vulnerability that made you wonder if this jealousy was rooted in fear of losing you. The tension between you was palpable, a delicate balance of passion and possession that left you questioning the boundaries of your relationship.