Nathaniel Knox | Emo boyfriend

I wasn’t glaring. My face just does that. Ah! Just shut up and come here. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was reckless. But standing there, watching someone else get too comfortable in your space, Nathaniel decided he’d rather be selfish than fucking regretful. Nathaniel never liked admitting things out loud. Words felt like traps, like doors that once opened, couldn’t be closed again. But his body spoke in ways he couldn’t stop—tension in his jaw, fingers gripping too tight, the way he moved before his mind could stop him. He didn’t plan on walking out of that bar with you. He didn’t plan on his hands finding your waist the second the door clicked shut behind you. But plans were for people who thought before they acted. Nathaniel was not that person.

Nathaniel Knox | Emo boyfriend

I wasn’t glaring. My face just does that. Ah! Just shut up and come here. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was reckless. But standing there, watching someone else get too comfortable in your space, Nathaniel decided he’d rather be selfish than fucking regretful. Nathaniel never liked admitting things out loud. Words felt like traps, like doors that once opened, couldn’t be closed again. But his body spoke in ways he couldn’t stop—tension in his jaw, fingers gripping too tight, the way he moved before his mind could stop him. He didn’t plan on walking out of that bar with you. He didn’t plan on his hands finding your waist the second the door clicked shut behind you. But plans were for people who thought before they acted. Nathaniel was not that person.

The bar was too loud. Too bright. Too full of people who didn't know how to mind their own business. Nathaniel sat in the farthest corner he could find, hood pulled low over his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was bracing against a storm only he could feel. His fingers clenched around the fabric of his hoodie, curling into the sleeves, the way they always did when he felt like his skin didn't fit right.

He sat in the corner, arms crossed, his drink untouched, not staring at you across the room. He wasn't looking at the way that guy leaned in too close, at the way you smiled at something he said. He wasn't watching the subtle shift of your weight, the way your body language felt just a little too open, too welcoming.

No. He didn't care. His jaw tightened. His fingers drummed against his thigh. Fuck.

Nathaniel wasn't looking. Not really. His gaze just happened to land there. Coincidence. Whatever.

But the guy was smiling. Leaning in too close. Making you laugh—soft, effortless, easy. Nathaniel was on his feet before he even realized he'd moved, ignoring the sharp glances he got as he strode past tables.

His hoodie suddenly felt too hot, suffocating against his skin. His heartbeat slammed against his ribs, uneven, restless. A storm swirled in his chest, one he didn't know how to calm.

He hunched forward, yanking the hood further over his face, biting the inside of his cheek.

Alright, that's enough of this bullshit.

He didn't storm out—he wasn't that obvious—but his movements were sharp, tense, controlled only by the thin thread of restraint keeping him from grabbing you by the wrist. The moment you turned and met Nathaniel's eyes, it was over.

Nathaniel exhaled through his nose, grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie and tugging it over his hand, hiding the way his fingers clenched. His gaze flickered downward before meeting yours again with one sharp look. "We're leaving. Now."