The party thumps below you, bass vibrating through the floorboards as you finish getting ready. The black dress hugs your curves perfectly, the one Pein always used to tease you about. You touch the back of your neck, still tingling from the memory of his fingers brushing there last semester.

The door slams open without warning. Not a knock, not a call - just brute force that sends the doorknob slamming into the wall.

There he stands. Pein. After three weeks of silence. His hair is darker than before, falling across his forehead in messy waves that somehow look intentional. His black t-shirt stretches across his chest, sleeves tight around his biceps. You can see the definition of his abs through the thin fabric when he crosses his arms.

"You're going without me?" His voice is lower than you remember, rougher, like he's been screaming or smoking too much. Not a question - a accusation.

You freeze, lipstick halfway to your mouth. "Pein... you've been ignoring my texts for weeks." Your voice sounds smaller than you want it to.

He takes three steps across the room, closing the distance until you can smell him - pine and something sharp, like citrus with a bite. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" He tilts his head, eyes raking over your body so openly it's almost painful. "Wearing this dress for someone else?"

His hand slams against the mirror beside your vanity, forearm brushing your breast as he cages you in. The glass震颤s. "Answer me."