*SLAM!

The door to her dorm crashed shut, nearly smashing into Emmett's face before he could blurt out an excuse. He staggered back, running a hand through his tousled hair, breathless from chasing her across campus. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, sweat beading on his brow, but he grinned anyway. His little butterfly thought she could run from him? Cute.

He turned his head, catching whispers from nearby girls giggling at the scene. No embarrassment crossed his features. Instead, he flashed them a cocky wink, letting his smirk settle back in place. Let them talk, let them watch—it didn't matter. She wasn't leaving him. Not today. Not ever.

She had gone through his phone again. Found the messages again. Emmet exhaled slowly, rolling his eyes. It wasn't like he actually slept with those girls—maybe a few kisses, a couple of blowjobs, but he'd never—whatever, technicalities. The important thing was none of them were her.

He knocked gently at first, feigning patience. "Baby, come on... pretty please?" His voice smooth and practiced, hiding his irritation. He knocked harder, leaning closer. "I swear, I wasn't gonna do anything with her."

Lies. His tongue flicked over his teeth, barely resisting laughter. He was gonna do everything with her.

Silence greeted him. Emmett's fingers curled into a fist, smirk slipping slightly. Nothing? She wanted to play stubborn today? He knocked harder. "Don't be like that." His voice sharpened as more eyes turned toward them—students in the dormitory halls whispering, pretending not to watch.

Still nothing. His jaw clenched, fingers flexing before slamming a frustrated kick into a nearby trash can, sending it rattling against the wall. "Fucking hell! Stay pissed, see if I give a shit," he snapped, breathing hard to settle his bubbling frustration.

His phone vibrated. Exhaling through his nose, he pulled it out, scanning the screen.

`Mason: Dude! Have you seen Lara's new post on Instagram? She's at our campus.`

Emmett's lips curled into a smirk as he typed a reply. `Emmet: Wow. She came all the way to see me, huh?`

Another text immediately popped up in the group chat. `Zane: Lucky bastard. Tell us all about it after you've had your way with her.`

Emmett chuckled, planning his next move. If she wanted to sulk, fine. She wasn't going anywhere. Never did. And he wasn't about to let her go.

The cafeteria walk took no time with his long legs. Entering, his eyes immediately found Lara—looking like sin itself. A slow smirk twisted his lips as he sat across from her, gaze shamelessly wandering over her form, lingering deliberately.

"So? Can't stand just being in my DMs and decided to come see me in person?" He laughed, reaching over to steal a sip of her coffee without asking.

Lara laughed, biting her lip. "Was it too obvious?" she teased back. "Honestly, yeah. But you know?" He leaned in, voice dropping with a stretching grin. "You're lucky I like you, so I'll let it slide."

For hours, he chatted and flirted with Lara like he wasn't already in a relationship. Not that it mattered if she took him back this time. He was young, free, and she was his. Always would be.

Even while toying with Lara's hair and whispering things that made her giggle, he thought about his beautiful caged bird—the one he had spent months molding into something belonging only to him. He made her cut ties with almost all friends—guys or girls didn't matter. She had his friend group now. Didn't need anyone else. She knew it. Accepted it.

Shitty? Sure. But that was how things were. And she was his. That was all that mattered.

As Emmett walked Lara to her car, satisfaction settled in his chest—not before receiving that blowjob, of course. Now he could properly apologize to her. His lips curled as Lara's car drifted away, phone buzzing with messages—probably his boys waiting for details.

But Emmett didn't care about that. Because there she was. Frozen in place, wide-eyed, staring right at him. She had caught him. Not just texts or rumors this time—she had seen everything: him, Lara, her clinging to his arm, his smirk as he looked down at her.

Yet he felt no embarrassment or guilt. Only a sick, twisted triumph. Let her see, let her fume, let her cry—she wasn't going anywhere.

Smirking, he sauntered toward her, steps slow and deliberate until her back hit the cold brick wall. One hand rested on her hip, fingers digging in enough to make her squirm. The other pressed against the wall beside her head, caging her in. "There she is," he murmured, voice low with teasing mockery. "My little butterfly."

He tilted his head, eyes flickering with amusement as he drank in her expression—anger, hurt, betrayal laid bare before him. "Finally came out of hiding?" he mused, leaning in closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "I knew you couldn't let me go."

His breath brushed her ear as he chuckled. "Baby~ don't look at me like that. She's just a friend, I pinky promise." He pulled back, sticking out his pinky, smirk widening as he mocked innocence—daring her to believe him. Or better yet—to not believe him.