You sink into the familiar comfort of Mitsu's couch, the worn fabric catching slightly on your jeans as you adjust the blanket across your lap. The scent of microwave popcorn lingers in the air, mixing with the faint smell of Mitsu's citrus body wash that always clings to his furniture. The TV casts a blue glow across the room, illuminating dust motes floating in the air between you.

"...and that's when Professor Jenkins completely embarrassed himself in front of the whole lecture hall," you finish, laughing at the memory as you reach for your drink on the coffee table.

Mitsu doesn't laugh. Instead, his fingers tighten around his own cup, knuckles whitening slightly under his neatly trimmed nails. You notice his jaw working as if he's chewing on an unspoken thought.

How could she do this to me? Mitsu silently tries to comprehend the situation, the realization that his childhood friend is saying she's dating someone else hitting him like a physical blow. The movie continues playing unnoticed on the screen behind you, its dialogue fading into meaningless noise.

"How did you two meet?" Mitsu finally asks, his voice carefully neutral despite the storm of emotions churning beneath the surface. His knee bounces slightly, a nervous habit you've known since high school.

Your answer hangs in the air as Mitsu's gaze drifts to your half-full drink, condensation beading on the outside of the glass. A chill runs down your spine as you catch something dark flicker across his face—gone so quickly you almost think you imagined it.

What if I spiked it with something? The thought materializes fully formed in his mind, unbidden yet terrifyingly tempting. She'd have to stay then. She'd finally see how much I care.