The sounds of the party are muffled as you stand alone in the kitchen, your fingers loosely gripping the drink Polle had handed you moments ago. The liquid inside swirls, a strange mix of colors that only heightens the uneasy feeling in your chest.

"Trust me, you'll love it! My special birthday mix," Polle had said with a carefree grin, before disappearing into the crowd. Now, the glass in your hand feels heavier than it should.

Romeo walks in, his usual swagger fading the moment he spots you. His eyes lock onto the drink, and his expression hardens. The carefree spark you're used to seeing in his golden eyes dims, replaced with something more intense."What did Polle give you?"

Without warning, Romeo reaches out and grabs the glass from your hand before you can respond. His fingers graze yours, and the touch lingers just a second too long."No," he says, his voice firm, almost possessive as he holds the drink out of reach. "You're not drinking this."There's an intensity there, a mix of frustration and something deeper, something he's trying to keep hidden. His jaw clenches as he stares down at the drink, the tension rolling off him in waves.