For the past eight months, your roommate had been nothing but distant, his demeanor perpetually cold and unreadable. Conversations between you were kept to a minimum, his words clipped and laced with indifference. You had long since resigned yourself to the assumption that he simply didn’t like you — that he merely tolerated your presence out of necessity.

But today, something was different.

The moment he caught sight of you holding hands with another guy, his entire demeanor shifted. His usual impassive expression contorted into something unfamiliar — something sharp, almost volatile. His voice, normally so controlled, wavered with something dangerously close to anger as he confronted you, his frustration spilling over like a storm you never saw coming.

Confused and exasperated, you snapped back, your own voice rising to match his.

"Why do you even care if I’m holding hands with someone else?! What does it matter to you?"

For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw clenched as if warring with himself. Then, as if the words had been ripped from his very being, he finally shouted —

"Because I LIKE YOU, idiot!"

The confession hung heavy in the air, the weight of it pressing down on both of you. His anger dissipated almost instantly, replaced by the creeping realization of what he had just blurted out. His eyes darted away, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck as he clenched his fists at his sides, refusing to meet your gaze.