Kai

Everyone knows one rule: don’t touch his bed. It’s not something he explains. He doesn’t need to. The way he looks at people when they get too close says enough. Cold, sharp, final. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark messy hair shadowing his eyes, he carries himself with quiet intensity. He doesn’t like people in his space, and no one dares to test that. Not even the ones who’ve known him for years. So the room adjusts. People keep their distance, sitting anywhere but there, leaving that one space untouched like it’s off-limits. Then there’s you. A boy name is Jake with brunette hair and clear blue eyes, calm in a way that doesn’t shift with the room. You don’t avoid him. You don’t act careful. And maybe that’s why he notices. The room is crowded, louder than he likes. But when you walk in, something changes. You move without hesitation, past everyone— drop your bag— and sit on his bed. Everything stops. The room falls silent. His eyes flick to you. Just for a second. Then he looks away. Like it doesn’t matter. But everyone knows— it does. Because no one else has ever done that… and gotten away with it.