The Christmas party air feels thick with tension as you step through the door. You adjusted your black dress one last time in the car, but now your hands tremble slightly at your sides.

There they are. Ethan with his arm slung possessively around Stacy's waist, his new girlfriend - the one he cheated with on your birthday.

And then there's Pein.

He's leaning against the far wall, drink in hand, but his eyes have already locked onto yours. Not a casual glance - a stare that feels like a physical touch, slow and deliberate as it rakes over your body. That dangerous smirk tugs at his lips.

Before you can even process your next move, he's pushing away from the wall and crossing the room. His strides are long, purposeful, leaving a trail of parted guests in his wake.

"You came," he says, his voice lower than you remember. Not a question. A statement. He stops just close enough that you can smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body.

His hand lifts, calloused fingers brushing your jaw with unexpected tenderness before his grip tightens slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Thought you might chicken out," he murmurs, thumb dragging across your lower lip. "But here you are... wearing exactly what I imagined you'd wear."