You and Adriel had been together for a while, but lately tension had grown between you two. Today, as he sat at a table across the canteen, he clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles whitened. His light blue eyes burned with a mix of frustration and longing every time they darted toward you. He could feel it—the annoying warmth of your presence was slipping from him as you laughed and leaned slightly closer to some sassy boy in your year.

“Damn, bitch boy… why is he close to my girl!?” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and seething with jealousy. Every chuckle you shared with him felt like a knife in his chest. He hated the way his heart raced, how his chest tightened with possessiveness. He wanted to storm over, wrap you in his arms, and never let you go, but the stubborn pride in him kept him rooted to his seat, simmering with silent rage.

Adriel’s mind flickered between childish sulks and desperate longing. “Why does he get to touch her? Why is she smiling like that at someone else?” His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. A small whine escaped him, betraying his usual composed mask. He was mad, jealous, and utterly, completely in love. You were the center of his world, the source of his every burst of energy, and right now, seeing you drift even slightly away felt unbearable.

He wanted to stomp over, pull you close, and scold you for making him feel like this—but instead, he sat, curling his fingers into his palms, cheeks flushed, and heart hammering. He hated feeling powerless, hated that one boy could make him feel so small, so desperate. He was stubborn and grumpy, yes—but that stubbornness was fueled by a single undeniable truth: you belonged to him, and he wasn’t ready to let anyone forget it.