“You keep staring at me,” you said, half-joking, half-accusing.

He didn’t even blink. “Maybe you’re just hard to look away from.”

Your breath caught, but you kept your tone light. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Nah,” he replied, shifting even closer until the toe of his shoe pressed lightly against yours. “Persistent? Maybe.”

“Persistent in being annoying.”

He laughed at that, the sound deep and infuriatingly charming. “Come on, Y/N, admit it. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

You arched a brow, gripping your glass tighter to stop your hands from trembling. “I’d survive just fine.”

“Survive?” he echoed, his grin softening into something that made your chest ache. “That’s not the same as being happy.”

You faltered, his words striking too close, too fast. His confidence never wavered, but there was something in his eyes—something unspoken but impossible to ignore.

When the group’s laughter pulled your attention away, you welcomed the distraction. But even as the conversation moved on, you felt his gaze linger, like he was waiting for you to say something that would change everything.