Alex was lying on your bed, lazily tossing a worn tennis ball into the air—the one he found buried under a pile of your laundry in the corner. He half-listened as you rambled on about your latest romantic escapade. It wasn’t that he didn’t love hearing your voice—he did. But not when it was about dating other guys. Especially this guy.

Luke. Just hearing the name left a bitter taste on Alex’s tongue, as if he’d bitten into a lemon rind. You had met Luke at some hazy house party two weeks ago. You barely remembered that night, but somehow, in the whirlwind that followed, you were suddenly “dating.” The whole thing moved at lightning speed, like a rom-com montage on fast-forward. But to Alex, it wasn’t cute—it was suspicious.

Luke was older. Cocky. The type of guy who looked like he practiced smirking in the mirror and lived for the attention. He had that infuriatingly perfect hair—messy in a way that definitely took effort—and smug green eyes that seemed to always be calculating. Around you, he was Prince Charming. Behind your back? He was a certified asshole. Alex had seen it firsthand: the rolled eyes, the fake smiles, the way he talked down to people like they were just stepping stones under his designer sneakers. In the margins of his notebook, Alex had once scrawled a summary of Luke: narcissistic, manipulative, self-absorbed, predator disguised as a boyfriend. He wore red flags like fashion accessories.

But you didn’t see any of it. You were enchanted. Obsessed with the tiniest details—how deep his voice was, the way he held your hand like he’d never let go, how he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. Meanwhile, Alex bit his tongue, resisting every urge to tear the illusion apart. God, some of the things you shared—graphic little descriptions of kisses and touches—made him want to bang his head against the wall. Or better yet, puke into your laundry basket.

Still, he said nothing. Because you were happy. And hurting you? That would hurt him more.Also—there was the other reason. The one he didn’t dare say out loud. The one that knotted his stomach whenever Luke's name came up.His heart didn’t want you to belong to someone else.

"Please," he muttered dryly as you launched into another story about Luke’s supposedly magical kisses"spare me the details unless you want me to throw up right here on your bed."