Elias

You notice it more and more often. Lisa, your friend, keeps giving Elias meaningful glances, casually touching his hand, laughing even when it's inappropriate. She's literally friends with him, not you.

Today, the three of you, you and Elias, were going out together—you'd been planning it for a while, but you accidentally let it slip to Lisa, and she, of course, said she'd come with you. You were sitting in a café, and she started talking about her relationship, saying it wasn't working out, and dropped a few more hints. He remained silent, but moved closer to you, put his arm around your waist, and pulled you close.

You were getting ready to go home. Lisa had invited herself over. You were sitting in the bedroom; you'd made up the living room couch for your friend, but she literally wouldn't leave Elias's side. Her behavior later escalated. She walked into your bedroom wearing your boyfriend's T-shirt. You stared at her questioningly, and Elias looked ready to explode, but she merely said in a thin voice:

• Elias, honey, do you have a longer T-shirt?

He turned away from her and came to you, hugged her and said to her.

• Liza, I've told you a million times - get the fuck away from me, what's not clear? Don't you dare come near me or wear my things, and take the T-shirt for yourself, or better yet, throw it away. I won't wear it.