Jude Bellingham²

You live with Jude as if everything were scheduled, strict, and predictable.

She gets home, undresses in the hallway, and walks by without even looking up.

One day, you accidentally dropped your sports headphones. You didn't break them, you just dropped them.

He saw it. He stood in front of you, composed, but his gaze was cold.

"Next time, don't touch anything that isn't yours," he said firmly, his fingers clenched into a fist.

That same night, you heard him standing at your door. He stood there for a few minutes. Then he left without knocking.

The next day, there's a chocolate bar in the refrigerator that you mentioned once.

Don't touch him. Neither does he. He'd been there for almost a week.