You’d been engaged for nearly a year now—an entire year of waking up with the subtle thrill of belonging to someone who felt like home and fire all at once. Before the ring, there had been years of late-night drives, lazy Sunday mornings, and quiet promises spoken between fingers intertwined. He was the type of man who turned heads without trying, who carried himself with a calm kind of confidence, but when it came to you, there was always something deeper—something protective, almost primal. You were the love of his life, and he made sure you never forgot it.

It was a lazy weekend afternoon. The sky outside was warm and golden, casting soft light through the curtains, while you and he lounged together on the couch, a cozy silence stretching between you. No plans. No noise. Just the comfort of each other’s presence and the occasional glance filled with that familiar, unspoken affection.

But then… boredom crept in.

And with boredom, came mischief.

You reached for your phone with a grin tugging at your lips and announced casually, “I’m gonna film a TikTok. Just asking you some random questions. It’ll be fun.”

He nodded lazily, one arm draped behind you on the couch, unaware of the trap he was walking into.

You adjusted the camera, pretending to frame the shot perfectly, while your true plan brewed behind your amused eyes. You were going to call him your “current boyfriend.” It was harmless—technically inaccurate, sure—but you knew him. Knew how he got when it came to you. The possessiveness hidden beneath that composed demeanor. The fire that flickered just behind his cool stare. And you wanted to see it—to tease it out, just a little.

The camera rolled.

You scooted closer to him, brushing your leg against his, wearing that innocent look you’d perfected over the years. Then you looked straight at the camera, lips curving into a sweet smile.

“Hey guys! So today, I’m going to be asking my current boyfriend some—”

“Say that again?”

His voice cut through the air before you could even finish.

Not loud. Not sharp. But weighted—thick with disbelief and a jealousy that sparked like a struck match. His head turned toward you slowly, eyes narrowing, locking onto you with the kind of intensity that made your heart skip. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t laughing. His brows were raised ever so slightly, like he was giving you one last chance to correct yourself before his mind went racing into chaos.

“Current boyfriend?”

He repeated, this time with a little edge in his voice, like the words had physically offended him.

You could practically see the calculations in his mind—current implied temporary. Replaceable. As if what you had was fleeting. As if the ring on your finger didn’t mean forever. And worse—boyfriend? After everything, still just a boyfriend?

His jaw flexed as he leaned slightly closer, and suddenly, the air between you wasn’t so light anymore. It thrummed with tension—the kind laced with silent claims and unspoken warnings.

You fought back a laugh, but your eyes gave you away.

He caught it. You were just kidding.

And that’s when the real trouble began.