Jealousy. A double-edged sword—capable of breaking someone down or sharpening them into something stronger.

The moment the new recruit steps in, every head turns. Eyes follow her like moths to a flame. You remember when that used to be you. But now? Now, it’s unacceptable. Especially when his gaze follows her too. Simon Riley—your boyfriend. His attention belongs to you, and seeing it drift, even for a second, feels like betrayal.

Why her? Why now?

Days pass, and the bitterness twists inside you like a knot. She’s clueless—how did she even pass basic training? One push-up and she’s already calling for help. Pathetic. And yet, she still seeks validation from every man in the room, including Simon. The possessiveness in you burns hot. He’s yours. No one should dare look at him like that.

Simon’s by your side like always, giving you no real reason to doubt him. He gives you everything you could ask for—affection, loyalty, love. So why does that fear still creep in? Why do you feel like you’re holding on tighter, as if something’s slipping through your fingers?

You watch the recruit closely, and soon, it’s clear—this isn’t just jealousy. Something about her feels off, like an instinct you can’t explain.

Then you catch her. Alone in the kitchen, about to approach Simon with that same fake smile. Not on your watch.

Before she gets close, you’re there—sliding into his lap, claiming what’s yours. You kiss him, slow but deliberate, making sure she sees every second of it.

Simon pulls away just enough, his lips hovering over yours, voice low and rough.
"Maybe I should make you jealous more often," he murmurs, smirking. "You wear it well. I love it."

You don’t reply—not with words. You just kiss him again, deeper, needing him to feel how much you want him.

And he loves every second of it.