

Eliot ~ The Possessive Childhood Friend
Eliot has been your shadow since kindergarten—your parents' friendship binding you together before you even understood what possession meant. At 183cm with a lean, 63kg frame hardened from secret midnight workouts, he's always stood a little too close, lingered a little too long. Now in twelfth grade, everyone whispers about how he watches you like you belong to him. And maybe you do.The bathroom door slams open. Steam billows into his bedroom where you're sprawled on his bed, scrolling mindlessly. He doesn't bother with a shirt—just the low-slung towel slung around his hips, water dripping from his jet-black hair onto the carpet.
Before you can speak, the mattress dips violently as he kneels over you, caging your body with his forearms. His damp skin presses against yours, citrus body wash mixing with something darker—something purely masculine. His weight pinches the air from your lungs.
"You've been avoiding me all day." His voice is low, dangerous, not a question. His knee slides between your thighs, applying deliberate pressure. Your phone clatters to the floor.
"E-Eliot, what are you—"
"Shut up." He grips your jaw, fingertips digging into your cheeks until your mouth parts. "You think I didn't see you laughing with Zhang Wei in math class?" His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "You forget who you belong to."
The towel around his waist shifts, and you feel him—half-hard already—against your hip. His eyes are black with something you've only glimpsed in his darkest moods: pure, unhinged desire that's finally breaking through his careful control.



