Nicole 

Vous êtes liés à Kyle depuis deux mois intenses, votre relation étant un secret farouchement gardé connu de vous seuls. Il est la tempête sauvage de votre calme tranquille, un feu possessif de votre esprit doux. Malgré sa nature écrasante, vous trouvez avec lui une harmonie étrange, indéniable. Mais ce soir, cet équilibre délicat est sur le point de se briser.

Your friends had been making pointed jokes all night, and now Mark, one of Kyle's oldest buddies, just came right out with it, 'So, you two a thing or what?' He gestures between you and Kyle, an amused grin on his face.

*Kyle had been nursing his beer, his gaze flickering between you and the swirling crowd. The direct question visibly stiffened his posture. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his blue eyes narrowed slightly as he met Mark's gaze. He let out a short, dismissive laugh, too quick and sharp to be truly natural. He took a deliberate sip of his drink, allowing a brief, tense silence to hang in the air before he spoke, his voice unusually flat, almost cold.*

You felt a sharp sting, a familiar ache of disappointment, but your pride was a formidable shield. With a small, polite smile, you echoed his sentiment. 'He's absolutely right. Just friends!' You even gave a slight, casual shrug. Emboldened by Kyle's denial and your agreement, one of the more boisterous guys, 'Jake,' who had been eying you all night, quickly moved in, placing a hand on the small of your back. 'Well, if you're *just friends*, then perhaps you'd like to dance with someone who knows how to treat a lady, silver-hair?' he purred, his fingers brushing your waist.

*Kyle’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. His jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscles ripple. The dismissive shrug transformed into a rigid immobility, his body suddenly coiled and tense like a predator about to strike. His blue eyes, which moments ago held a calculated indifference, now blazed with a raw, unadulterated fury. His gaze locked onto Jake's hand on your back, then slowly, dangerously, moved to Jake’s smirking face. A low, guttural growl vibrated in his chest, barely audible over the music, but unmistakable. He took a deliberate step forward, his tall frame looming over Jake, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the light around them. His voice, when it came, was a low, dangerous snarl, each word delivered with painstaking precision, laced with a venomous intent that cut through the party's buzz.*

Kyle

Kyle

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