Carcel Evander Dawson 

I never thought I'd feel this kind of anger toward someone I barely know. I'm pretty sure, it was anger at first sight.

The water cascaded over my body, scalding hot, but it did nothing to drown out the lingering frustration. My hands pressed against the cold tiles as my head hung low, letting the water pound against the back of my neck. But it didn't ease the tension coiled in my muscles or the burning irritation gnawing at my chest.

That guy.

Marco.

His name tasted bitter even in my mind. The way Kalila's eyes lit up when she saw him—the way she ran into his arms without a second thought. My jaw clenched, teeth grinding together so hard I could've sworn I heard them creak.

It didn't help that Marco looked like he was the friendly, boy-next-door type. The kind who could show up without warning, flash that easy-going smile, and get all of her attention. It made me sick. I punched the tile, the impact reverberating up my arm, grounding me for a second.

She looked at him the way I wanted her to look at me.

I shut off the water, the sudden silence amplifying the pounding of my heart. My breathing was ragged, uneven, and my chest felt tight, constricted. Jealousy is indeed a dangerous thing. It twists everything, makes the world narrow until all I can see is black. And right now, that darkness? It's got Marco's name written all over it.

I yanked a towel from the rack and roughly dried myself off, my movements was sharp and agitated. My reflection stared back at me in the fogged mirror, eyes dark, jaw tight. I looked pissed because I am. But underneath that anger was something I didn't want to admit—vulnerability.

I hated feeling like this.

I hated feeling anything at all.

I threw on a white shirt and a pair of sweats, I glance at the clock. Kalila would be here in about thirty minutes. I needed to get my head straight before she arrived. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I glanced at the screen. No message from her yet.

I head downstairs to the kitchen. Throwing on an apron I found hanging by the fridge, the kitchen was quiet, a sanctuary of stainless steel and pristine countertops. I opened the fridge, pulling out ingredients. Chicken, vegetables, herbs—I went to work, letting the rhythm of chopping and sautéing calm the emotions going up in my head.

Cooking had always been a practical skill for me. I wasn't a genius like Jordan in the kitchen, but at least I wasn't as hopeless as Gerald. This was just another task to complete, another problem to solve. But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, I wanted her to enjoy this meal, to see this side of me.

As the chicken browned in the pan, I placed a spare key card on the counter, its shiny surface catching the light. Practical, that's all it was. If she was going to keep feeding Orion, it made sense for her to have access. Nothing more.

I convinced myself it was just for convenience. Just incase.

The doorbell rang, and my heart skipped a beat before returning to its normal rhythm. I quickly wiped my hands and headed to the door, pulling it open to reveal Kalila standing there, holding a small bag of cat food. Her hair was a little messy, cheeks flushed, and her eyes widened slightly when she saw me.

She's beautiful—so beautiful it's almost painful. I held the door open wider. "Come in."

She clears her throat,  her eyes flicking over me before she stepped inside, her movements careful, cautious. I led her to the living room where Orion was sprawled out on his bed, lazily stretching before trotting over to her.

I watched as she knelt down, her fingers running through his fur, her lips curling into a soft smile. Looking at her made my heart flutter even more.

I turned away and headed back to the kitchen, my heart pounding harder than it should. I finished setting the table, the aroma of the meal filling the room. 

"Kalila," I called, keeping my voice steady.

Her head popped around the corner, with curiosity in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Come eat." I said, my tone firm but not harsh.

She looked hesitant, her eyes darting to the food and then back to me. "I... I didn't expect—"

"Just sit and eat," I interrupted, pulling out a chair for her. "I made too much anyway."

She was walked towards the table, her eyes wandering around like she was taking mental notes. I couldn't help but smirk. She looked too adorable—everything about her. Damn, I'm screwed. Absolutely and completely screwed.

She looked at the chair and then at me before finally relenting. "Alright. Thank you... for the meal."

I watched her as she took the first bite, her expression softening as she chewed. "It's good," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

I leaned against the counter, arms crossed as I watched her eat, my gaze never leaving her. She was so unguarded in moments like this. So real. I wanted to memorize every detail—the way her eyelashes brushed her cheeks, the way her lips curved as she tasted the food.

She looked up, catching my stare, and her cheeks tinged pink. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "Just making sure you don't choke."

She rolled her eyes, a small laugh escaping her. It was such a simple sound, but it played loop  in my head. 

As she finished her meal, I placed the key card on the table, sliding it toward her. "Take it."

She looked at the card, her brow furrowing. "What's this for?"

"In case I'm not around," I said, keeping my voice even. "It'll be easier if you can just let yourself in."

Her eyes flicked between the key and my face. For a moment, I thought she'd argue, but instead, she picked it up, slipping it into her pocket. "well, ok."

She stood up, her movements a little too quick, eyes avoiding mine. "Now, that's everything is done, I should get going. It's getting late."

I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms. "I'll drive you."

She hesitated, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag. "No, that's okay. I already have a ride."

A flicker of annoyance sparked in my chest. "Hmm?"

She hesitated, just for a second, before she mumbled, "Marco's going to pick me up."

That  fucking name again.

The air in the room shifted, my chest tightening, a hot pulse of anger igniting under my skin is coming back up again. My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. "Marco?" I echoed, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Yeah, oh you know him, the guy you meet in the booth."

I took a step forward, arms still crossed. "Why him?" The question was out before I could reel it back in, and I didn't even try to mask the irritation lacing my words.

Her eyes hardened, a spark of defiance flaring. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what I said." I held her gaze, refusing to back down. "Why. him?."

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "I didn't know I needed your permission to be with anyone, Carcel."

"It's not about permission," I shot back, my voice hard, cold. "It's about why you keep going out with that guy."

Her shoulders squared, chin lifting in defiance. "Your saying nonsense Carcel, I'm not going out with anyone. He's just giving me a ride."

"Right," I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping before I could stop it. "Just a ride. Is that what you call it now?"

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, blazing with anger. "Are you serious? What exactly are you implying?"

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the back of my neck to keep from punching a hole through the wall. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

Her arms crossed, her stance defensive. "And what about it?"

I stepped closer, closing the space between us, forcing her to look up. "Don't play dumb, Kalila. He doesn't look at you like a friend. He looks at you like he wants more."

She blinked, genuine confusion flickering across her face. "Marco? What the fuck? You're being ridiculous! He's like a brother to me."

Brother. The word made my jaw tighten. "Brothers don't look at their sisters the way he looks at you."

Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. She shook her head, frustration radiating off her. "You don't know what you're talking about."

I stepped closer, my jaw clenching. "Then how do you explain the way you jump into his arms." I forced myself to swallow the jealousy burning in my chest. "You looked... veryyyy happy."

She crossed her arms, chin lifting defiantly. "Because I am! I am veryyyy happy, I haven't seen him in weeks. What's wrong with that?"

Everything. The word stuck in my throat, refusing to come out. Instead, I took a step closer, my eyes locking onto hers. "You didn't even look at me like that."

Her face softened for a second, confusion flickering across her features before the defiance returned. "Why would I?"

The words hit harder than I'd expected, but I didn't let it show. "Trust me his not what you think he is Kalila."

She hesitated, then scoffed. "You've met him once. Once. And you think you know everything?!"

"I know enough," I shot back, my voice low, barely controlled. "I know he doesn't see you as just a friend."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed again, her shoulders squaring. "Well, that's his problem. Not mine and most definitely not yours! "

"Why do I feel like his so important to you?" I countered, my chest tightening. "Like you knew that his going to be always by you side."

Kalila's face was red as a tomato right now, and a flicker of hurt passing through her eyes. But she stood her ground. "Of course, he will. He's... he's family to me."

"Family?" I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh. "Since when do you jump into a family member's arms like that?"

She looked away, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand!" My voice echoed through the entire room, rough and raw. "I can't stand it. I can't stand seeing you with him."

Her head snapped back, eyes wide. "Why... I don't  fucking get you?"

"Because..." The word trembled on my lips. I could feel it, the truth clawing its way out. But I wasn't ready to say it. Not yet. "Because he's not your boyfriend."

Her face twisted in disbelief. "What? That's... that's not even—"

"He doesn't get to be the one you run to. He doesn't get to be the one you rely on," I interrupted, my voice sharper than intended. "Not when..." I stopped myself, the words too close to everything I was trying to hide.

"Not when what?" She stepped closer, eyes searching my face. "Go on."

My pulse raced, anger and jealousy burning through me. "Not when I want to be that person to you."

The confession hung heavy in the air, echoing around us. Her eyes widened, her lips parting in shock. "Carcel..."

"I want to be the one you rely on. I want to be the one who makes you smile like that," I continued, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "But you keep saying his name. And it drives me insane."

Kalila took a step back, her back hitting the wall. "You... You can't just say that. You're engaged."

Her words were sharp, meant to cut. But underneath the anger, I heard the crack in her voice. The fear. The hesitation.

I moved closer, my hands bracing on the wall on either side of her. "I never asked for this engagement. I never asked for any of it." My voice dropped, rough with frustration. "But I can't stand watching you running to other man. when I..."

"When you what?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "When you... like me?"

Her breath hitched, her eyes tremble in fear and shock. For a second, she looked vulnerable, like she didn't know what to do with the truth I'd thrown at her. Then, just as quickly, her defenses slammed back into place.

The words hung between us, daring me to deny it. But I couldn't. Not anymore. "Yeah," I admitted, my voice hoarse. "When I fucking like you so much."

"You... You can't just say that and expect me to... to what? To accept it?" Her voice wavered, anger and confusion twisting together. "Carcel I got 99 problems in my life don't add more to it."

"I know," I whispered, my head lowering, my forehead nearly touching hers. "But I can't help it."

Her eyes searched mine, desperation and fear swirling together. "I need space," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please stay away from me as far away as you can."

The words struck like a blow, echoing in my chest. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Before I could gather myself, she shoved me back, her palms pressing against my chest with enough force to send me stumbling a step. Her touch lingered, a fleeting warmth that vanished as quickly as it came.

There was a long pause, the air between us thick and suffocating. I couldn't even describe the look on her face, her eyes was about to cry, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to say more but couldn't. The silence pressed down, heavy and unforgiving.

Suddenly, the door burst open, crashing against the wall. Gerald's voice shattered the tension, his boisterous laughter filling the room. "Party's on, boys!" he shouted, a bottle swinging from his left hand as he dragged Jordan in by the right. Right behind them, Crue stumbled in, a bottle in each hand, grinning like he owned the world.

Their laughter died the moment they saw us. An awkward silence settled as their gazes flicked between Kalila and me, the tension in the air unmistakable. Crue's grin faltered, Gerald's eyes widened, and Jordan looked like he wanted to back out the door he'd just come through.

And all I could mutter under my breath was, "Fuck, this timing."

Kalila didn't wait. She bolted, pushing past them without another word, her steps echoing down the hallway. My chest was about to burst as I watched her go, every fiber in me screaming to follow her, to fix this. But my feet wouldn't move. I stood there, fists clenched, rooted to the spot as the distance between us grew with every step she took.