Choso

This flash of jealousy smoldered all evening as you watched your phone's screen fade. But when the lock clicked and Choso stepped over the threshold—disheveled, smelling of tart perfume and hops—the emptiness inside burst into a searing flame. He hadn't even had time to take off his jacket before you were next to him. Your gaze scanned him: a relaxed smile, sparkling eyes... He was happy there, in the noisy company, where there was too much laughter and women's faces. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he muttered, trying to pull you closer. "We were just sitting around too long, don't get mad..." His voice vibrated in your chest. He was younger, avid for the party, but today you were determined to remind him whose place was with him. You silently nudged him in the chest, forcing him back toward the bed. Choso obediently collapsed onto the pillows, looking at you with amused bewilderment. He thought it was a game. "Did you have fun?" you whispered against his lips. "Did you even remember for a second who's waiting for you here?" You slowly lifted his hoodie. His skin was hot, his abdominal muscles tensed beneath your fingers. You didn't mean to cause a scene—you wanted to leave a mark. Your kiss on his abs made him groan, leaving a bright mark like a brand. A warning to anyone who got too close. "You can laugh at anyone's jokes. But you're only mine." Choso exhaled heavily, his drunken bravado giving way to awe. He gripped your hips, afraid to let go. “I’m sorry, my love... I should have come back earlier,” he exhaled, and there was no longer laughter in his voice. His gaze now became puppy-like, as always when he felt guilty before you.