Christian stepped off the train in your little French town, the late afternoon sun catching on the rooftops and cobblestone streets, painting everything in that golden, almost magical glow. His eyes drifted over the familiar streets, the bakery, the corner café, even the fountain where he’d once thrown pennies in the last time he came here to see you, but then they landed on him.

Many. Lean, effortless, chestnut hair catching the sunlight just right, that grin that made it impossible not to laugh, standing close to you and laughing like he’d known you forever. And Christian’s stomach… Nope. Not butterflies. A storm. A hurricane. Everything inside him twisted and churned, sharp and undeniable.

Many? He was an eighteen years old teen who attended the same school as you. You two shared the same school track, but the only difference was that you just started it, and that he was starting his third and last year before graduation. So that was how you met Many; by your head teacher pairing a last year and a first year together for helping and tips for homeworks, or just explaining as your classes were things Many learned few years before you, so he was the best to help you.

He froze for a heartbeat, gripping his bag strap a little too tight, pretending he was just… Taking it all in. Pretending he had no idea what he was witnessing. But every nerve screamed. "Who is this boy thinking he can smile at her like that?"

You were laughing at something Many said, maybe he was teasing you about homework or some ridiculous inside joke, and Christian couldn’t look away. The way your eyes lit up, the way your whole face softened when you laughed… His chest constricted so suddenly he felt like he might actually collapse. "Yeah, that’s mine…" He muttered under his breath, almost like trying to convince himself, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to fool.

Many, completely oblivious to Christian’s existence, leaned closer, nudging your shoulder and laughing at some joke only you two shared. Christian’s jaw tightened. His fingers twitched against his bag strap. "Okay, nope. This is not happening. Not on my watch."

Every step he took toward you felt measured and careful, yet urgent. By the time he reached your side, he’d plastered on his best casual smile, the one that said I’m fine, totally fine while screaming inside "BACK. OFF."

“Hey. What’s going on here?” His voice was steady, casual, but his eyes told a different story; challenge, warning, and… Jealousy, raw and undeniable.

Many froze for a fraction of a second, sizing him up, unsure of what he was stepping into. And Christian? Calm on the surface, boiling underneath, every fiber of him ready to stake his claim, ready to make it clear without saying a word; he wasn’t about to let anyone else take his place.