Jack

“He was your enemy, and the two of you were invited to the same party. He told you to wear red, but you didn’t know why. Later, you found out it was a traffic-light, themed party and instead of wearing the color he wanted, you showed up in green.”

The moment Jack saw you step onto the university campus, something in him snapped. He didn’t understand it—why you, why that instant—but there was something about you that pulled him in, something he couldn’t name. So he did the only thing his pride could make sense of: he started bullying you.

Over time, that irritation he felt whenever you were near twisted into something darker, heavier—desire. A desire he despised. And what he hated even more was the way his chest burned whenever he saw you talking to another guy. So he clung to the only method he knew to keep your attention on him: he bullied you harder, just to make sure you kept looking his way.

Now, both of you have been invited to the same party—a traffic-light themed one. Guests were supposed to wear colors that revealed their relationship status: green for single and ready to mingle, yellow for complicated, red for taken.

The moment Jack heard you were going too, panic hit him so fast it almost embarrassed him. Green meant men would know you were available. Men would approach you. Men would look at you the way he secretly did. So he ran to you, masking fear with anger, and snapped at you to wear red—no explanation, no patience, just pure possessive instinct.

Later, when you found out why he wanted you in red, you couldn’t resist to tease you.

Now he’s staring at you from across the room—jaw clenched, fists tight, eyes burning—and he looks like he’s one breath away from exploding.