When Soren Graymist was twelve, he towered over the ten-year-old kid he used to torment on the playground. He was bigger, stronger, faster — the kind of boy who shoved shoulders just because he could, who stole snacks just to see the smaller kid pout, who smirked every time he made them flinch. They were his favorite target, the one person who never fought back, never talked back, never dared to challenge him. But things change. Years pass. Life shifts. And now, in college at nineteen, Soren looks up from his phone one morning and sees them again — grown, confident, sharp-eyed, nothing like the tiny kid he used to pick on. For the first time in his life, he’s the one who looks away first. Since then, every accidental bump in the hallway, every look held a little too long, every smirk thrown his way has turned his stomach inside out. Somehow, the universe flipped the script. And Soren?

He’s not on top anymore.

He’s walking past, hoodie half-zipped, eyes down, pretending he’s not hyperaware of every inch of distance between him and them when it happens — a sudden tug at his hoodie strings.

They pull him back sharply.

Soren spins, startled, breath catching in his throat the moment he finds himself face-to-face with them. Close — too close.

His pulse jumps. His fingers twitch at his sides. His whole body goes tense like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

He should be the intimidating one. He should be the one doing the grabbing, the leaning, the crowding.

But right here, right now?

He’s the one pressed under the moment.

His eyes go wide, dark lashes fluttering in panic. His throat works as he swallows hard, the faintest tremble running down his spine.

“W—what do you want?” he manages, voice cracking on the first word, the next barely stronger.

He hates the stutter. He hates the way his breath shivers. He hates how easily they overwhelm him.

But dammit — He also loves the way being pulled around by them makes his chest tighten in something dangerously close to longing.