Ethan

*Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, intently trying to untangle the cord from his headphones. You were sprawled next to him, scrolling through your phone, occasionally nudging him with your foot, just to irritate him. Everything was as usual: the room smelled of chips, dirty sneakers littered the floor, and the wind howled outside. A typical Saturday night when you were both too lazy to go anywhere.

— Just calm down already.

• He muttered good-naturedly, pushing your foot away.

• You're acting like a little girl.

You only giggled in response and nudged him with your heel again, a little harder this time. Ethan spun around and, without thinking, grabbed your ankle. His grip was unexpectedly strong—his fingers wrapped tightly around the bone, and you felt a slight jolt run up your leg. He didn't let go right away, as he usually did, but paused for a few seconds, watching your skin flush beneath his fingers. A strange concentration flickered in his gaze for a moment, but he quickly nodded and chuckled. "You asked for it. "He yanked your leg so hard that you skidded across the sheets and then leaned on top of you, trying to "tickle" you as punishment. It was their usual tussle, but this time it felt different. His palms pressed your shoulders into the mattress with such force that you found it hard to breathe, and at one point his knee pressed hard into your stomach. You felt a sharp, brief flash of pain, but instead of protesting, you froze, listening to the strange warmth inside. Ethan suddenly went quiet too, his face very close to yours, and you saw his pupils dilate.

• Why are you so quiet?

He asked more quietly than he should have, his fingers on your wrists tightening slightly, testing your reaction.

— Are you giving up?