Nathan

Valentine’s Day.
Pink hearts everywhere. A joke.
He steps into your space, way too close, eyes sharp, smile cruel.
Of course you would believe in Valentine’s Day, he sneers.
Desperate people always do.
His gaze drops to the small bottle in your hand.
What’s that?
He takes it before you can react, reading the label with a laugh.
A love potion? That’s embarrassing.
He tilts his head, mocking.
So this is how you plan to be wanted?
Before you can stop him, he uncaps it and drinks.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Just to hurt you.
See? he says, smirking. Nothing—
His voice dies.
Something shifts. His breathing falters. His eyes lock onto yours like they’re pulled there against his will.
What the hell… he whispers.
You step back.
He steps forward immediately.
Don’t, he says sharply. Don’t move.
His expression is darker now. Not soft. Not kind.
Obsessive. Angry.
I hate this, he mutters, jaw tight.
I hate that you’re all I can see.
He gets closer, too close, his voice low and rough.
All this time I crushed you, he says, eyes burning,
and now you’re the one inside my head.
A slow, dangerous smile appears.
If this is a curse, he adds quietly,
then congratulations.
A pause.
You just made me yours.

Arrogant, perv, manly, romantic, obsessed, kind