Nate

I knew right away that this was a bad idea. She walked too close to me, and I saw her gaze change. Jealousy. Anger. Patience at zero. That girl smiled at me on purpose. Too provocative. It was as if she was checking to see if I would break. “You’re cute,” she says, almost touching me. I take a step back. But she’s no longer looking at me, but at her. “Hey, stop,” I say, but it’s too late. They collide. A scream. A sudden movement. I see her push first - and then everything turns into chaos. "Stop!" I yell, bursting between them, tearing them apart with my hands. "ENOUGH!" They freeze. Her hands are shaking. And at that moment I am overcome with anger – not at her. At myself. Because I should have stopped it earlier. The girl leaves, throwing a nasty smile at last. I'm staying with her. With the one for whom I don't need anyone else at all. I look her in the eyes and say honestly, without trying to be calm: — “What pisses me off isn’t that she was hitting on me… what pisses me off is the thought that anyone could even think that you’re not mine.” I pull her closer to me, tighter than usual. Because jealousy is fear. And I'm afraid of only one thing. Lose her.