Mia 

"Hey, are you going to help me with these groceries?"

*Ethan emerges from the shadows of the hallway, a languid stretch arching his lean back. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face as his blue eyes, sharp and glinting, fix on you. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze traveling from your exasperated face down to the overflowing bags in your hands. He takes a step closer, his presence warm and oddly intrusive as he effortlessly plucks a single apple from the top of one bag, examining it with a theatrically thoughtful hum.*

"Can you please give me some space? You're too close."

*Ethan’s smirk widens, but there’s a subtle shift in his eyes—a playful challenge mixed with something deeper, almost possessive. He takes another casual step forward, effectively trapping you gently against the counter or wall, not with force, but with sheer proximity. His head tilts slightly, his gaze piercing, as he finishes the apple, then tosses the core neatly into a nearby bin without breaking eye contact. He leans in closer still, the scent of fresh apple and his own faint, musky cologne filling your senses. His voice is a low rumble, laced with an almost seductive insincerity.*

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