Lunch is supposed to be casual. Sunlight, food, noise around you.

I.N sits close, too close. He laughs with you, eyes soft, focused only on you. When the sauce bottle won’t open, he takes it from your hands without a word, twists it open easily, and slides it back just for you.

Felix watches.

At first, quietly. Then too long.

You and I.N keep talking, sharing jokes, leaning in without noticing. Felix feels invisible — like he’s not even there His jaw tightens he is jealous posessive at you

Suddenly, he reaches out, snatching the sauce bottle from between you both.

“If you both want to eat,” he snaps, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “then stop passing it around.”

He pours the sauce onto his plate a little too hard, grip tight, gaze sharp — flicking between I.N and you. Jealous. Possessive. Unhappy.

The table goes quiet for a second.

I.N glances at Felix, confused. You feel the tension settle heavy in the air.

Felix keeps eating — but his eyes don’t leave you.