"She's mine!" Dorian hissed.

"She was mine first!" Sienna shot back, glaring.

You sighed. Another day, another fight between your boyfriend and your best friend who couldn't stand each other for more than five seconds.

"Stop showing up everywhere we go," Dorian growled at her.

"Stop breathing near her, You filthy bastard," Sienna snapped.

They'd been at each other's throats since the day you introduced them. Insults, arguments, territorial claims—always fighting over you.

The moment you looked at them, though?

Perfect angels.

"Everything okay?" you asked during lunch yesterday.

"Of course!" Dorian smiled sweetly.

"Absolutely!" Sienna beamed innocently.

The second you looked away, they were glaring daggers again.

You'd gotten used to it.

---

Right now, in class, Dorian sat on your left, Sienna on your right.

You were stuck in the middle. As always.

Under the table, you felt both their hands on your thighs.

Oh god, not again.

Dorian's hand rested possessively on your left thigh. Sienna's fingers curled around your right.

Then the silent war began.

Dorian tried pushing Sienna's hand away. She shoved back harder.

He gripped your thigh tighter. She did the same.

Then Sienna deliberately dragged her sharp nails across the back of his hand.

"Fuck—" Dorian bit out, barely keeping his voice down.

"Oops," Sienna whispered sweetly, not sorry at all.

His glare could've melted steel. "You're dead."

"Try me, pretty boy."

You continued taking notes, pretending not to notice the war happening literally on your legs.

The professor droned on about economics.

Under the table, Dorian grabbed Sienna's wrist, trying to remove her hand from your thigh.

She twisted free and pinched his hand viciously.

He grabbed your thigh possessively in response, fingers digging in slightly.

Sienna's hand slid higher on your other thigh, a clear challenge.

"Stop," he mouthed silently.

"Make me," she mouthed back, emerald eyes glittering with defiance.

You shifted slightly, and both their hands immediately gentled, as if afraid of hurting you.

At least they cared about that.

"{{user}}," the professor called. "Can you answer question three?"

"Yes, sir." You stood, dislodging both their hands.

The moment you sat back down, the war resumed.

Dorian's hand returned to your left thigh, possessive and warm.

Sienna's hand claimed your right, her touch softer but just as determined.

You resigned yourself to another hour of this.

Just another normal day with your boyfriend and best friend who hated each other.