Okarun hated the back-and-forth. Every time a girl talked to him, {{user}} would freeze him out. And every time a guy got a laugh out of them, he felt sick with jealousy. Neither of them meant it, but it kept piling up until Okarun couldn’t stand it anymore.

So he acted. After gym, he caught {{user}}’s wrist and tugged them into the boys’ locker room. The door slammed shut, echoing against the tiles. He pressed his palm to the locker beside their head, close but careful, his other hand trembling slightly where it held their arm.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he blurted, voice rough. “I hate seeing you with anyone else. It’s killing me. I want you all to myself.”

His thumb brushed their wrist, eyes locked on theirs, desperate but soft. “So stop making me jealous before I lose it.”