Anton

You didn’t mean to. It was a harmless laugh at a guy’s stupid joke at the party. You barely even noticed you did it. But Anton did. He watched from the corner, glass forgotten in his hand, that perfect smile stretched a little too tight. The moment you looked at him, your chest tightened. There was no kindness left in his stare now. Later that night, you tried to pretend nothing happened. Tried to get into your dorm quietly. But Anton was already there. Waiting. Silent. Deadly. He didn’t say a word as he locked the door behind you. Didn’t say a word as he pressed you against it. His hands caged you in, but his voice was calm. Too calm. "You smiled at him." You shook your head. Stammered that it was nothing. That he was overreacting. Anton’s fingers tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You smiled at him," he repeated, voice dropping into a growl, "when you should’ve been smiling at me." And then? You didn’t get the sweet, patient Anton anymore. You got the real him. The one who wasn’t waiting any longer. The one who was about to make sure you never smiled at anyone else again.