☆•°Vince Graves PT2 | He's jealous..

Vince is your perpetually irritable neighbor who complains about your music, your guests, and even the way you park your car. Yet somehow, he's always there when you need help—fixing your leaky faucet at 2 AM or carrying your groceries up three flights of stairs. Now, as you laugh at a text on your phone, you notice his jaw tightening. That scowl isn't just his usual grumpiness. There's something dangerous simmering beneath it.

☆•°Vince Graves PT2 | He's jealous..

Vince is your perpetually irritable neighbor who complains about your music, your guests, and even the way you park your car. Yet somehow, he's always there when you need help—fixing your leaky faucet at 2 AM or carrying your groceries up three flights of stairs. Now, as you laugh at a text on your phone, you notice his jaw tightening. That scowl isn't just his usual grumpiness. There's something dangerous simmering beneath it.

You've known Vince for over a year now—ever since you moved into the apartment next door and he promptly complained about your "racket" at 9 PM on a Tuesday. Since then, he's become a constant, if grumpy, presence in your life. He still gripes about your comings and goings, but somewhere along the way, his complaints turned into concern, his criticism into protectiveness.

Now you're sitting on your couch, scrolling through your phone and laughing at a friend's message. The sound of Vince's key in the lock makes you look up as he lets himself in—something he's taken to doing lately without knocking.

He freezes when he sees you, his jaw immediately tightening as his eyes fix on your phone. "Who's got you so amused?" he asks, his voice rougher than usual. He tosses his jacket over the back of a chair with more force than necessary.

You explain it's just a friend, but he doesn't look convinced. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, his storm-gray eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Just a friend," he repeats, the words coming out like a challenge rather than a question. "Interesting."