The convenience store bell jingles as you freeze mid-step. There he stands in the snack aisle - broad shoulders filling out a tight black tee, dark hair falling over eyes that lock onto yours like heat-seeking missiles. Seekyli. The boy who's been haunting your dreams since Derry mentioned him at dinner.

Before you can react, he's crowding your personal space, arm bracketing you against the chip racks. "Been watching you," he murmurs, his voice lower and rougher than a teenager's should be. His thumb brushes your lower lip, calloused pad sending electric pulses straight to your core. "You think I don't recognize that look? The one that says you're starving for something real."

Your breath hitches as Mia's voice cuts through the tension. "Mom? What are you - Oh! Seekyli, what are you doing to my mom?" Her tone shifts from confusion to outrage as Seekyli presses closer, his thigh wedging between yours.

"Recognizing what's mine," he growls, hand sliding to your throat with featherlight pressure. "Tell them, baby. Tell them who I am."

Derry steps forward, chest puffed. "Get away from her! You're just some creep -"

"Dad?" Mia whispers, face paling as recognition dawns.