The morning started like any other, except I had the sinking feeling Peryn would be unusually restless today.
By the time I got to the classroom, Kairen was already settled next to me, notebook open, quietly explaining something to me while I pretended to focus on my own work.
I hadn't counted on the storm that was about to arrive.
Peryn walked in, scanning the room, eyes locking onto me immediately. When he noticed Kairen beside me, his lips pressed into a thin line. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "unbelievable".
The teacher, Mr. Rao, had already started calling out the seating assignments for the day. Peryn raised his hand, voice firm but calm.
"Sir, I need to sit here," he said, pointing directly at the seat next to me.
"Sit where you're assigned, Peryn," Mr. Rao replied, trying to maintain authority.
"I can't. It's… it's important," Peryn pressed, leaning forward, eyes sharp as a blade.
"Important?" the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Peryn said, jaw tight. "Luna and I need to sit together. It's… better for both of us."
Mr. Rao frowned, clearly unsure if this was a joke. "Better? You think you can just decide your seat because it's 'better' for you?"
Peryn didn't flinch. He glanced at me—his gaze softening for a split second—and then back to the teacher, voice low and steady.
"It's not just better. It's necessary. Please."
The whole class was quiet. I could barely process what I was seeing—Peryn, usually teasing and joking, now standing his ground for me.
Mr. Rao sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Sit. But don't let this disrupt the class."
Victory flashed in Peryn's eyes as he slid into the seat beside me, leaning back with a triumphant smirk.
I pretended to be nonchalant, but my heart was racing.
"About time," I muttered, a little too quietly for him not to hear.
"I've been waiting," he whispered, voice low, almost teasing—but there was fire in his gaze.
Kairen, across the table, gave me a polite smile, oblivious to the tension. Meanwhile, I realized something: Peryn wasn't just jealous—he cared enough to make a scene for me. And no amount of silent treatment or ignoring was going to change that.
As I pulled out my notebook, pretending to focus, I felt the weight of his presence beside me—watchful, protective, just the tiniest bit possessive.
And deep down, I knew: this silent game had just taken a sharp, thrilling turn.