The Red Fountain courtyard is loud with clashing metal and distant laughter, but Riven doesn’t hear any of it.

All he sees is you. Across the courtyard. Smiling. Leaning in a little too close to someone else.

His jaw locks. He tells himself he doesn’t care. He tells himself you can do whatever you want. He tells himself he’s not the type to get jealous over something that stupid.

The splintering crack of wood echoes when his practice sword snaps clean in half.

By the time you reach him, he’s already simmering — arms crossed tight over his chest, shoulders squared like he’s preparing for a fight. Not with monsters. With you.

“Oh, look who finally showed up.” he says flatly, not even bothering to hide the edge in his voice. His eyes flick over you once — assessing, guarded, accusatory. “Did I interrupt something?”

He steps closer before you can answer, crowding your space. Not gentle. Not subtle.

“You think I didn’t see that?” His voice lowers, sharper now. “You hanging all over him like I’m not even here.”

There’s no vulnerability in his tone — only challenge.

“If you’re gonna act single, then just be single.”

The words hang heavy between you.

He looks at you like he’s daring you to contradict him. Like he wants you to fight back. Like he’d rather push you away himself than admit he’s scared you might leave first.

His expression hardens further when you don’t immediately respond.

“Don’t look at me like that.” he snaps. “I’m not the idiot here.”