Hours passed, and Mika found himself stuck in the same thoughts. Lost… lost in the feeling of defeat, lost in the weight of Alex's words. It was only as the lunch bell rang and students headed to their next classes that Mika finally pulled himself out of his own head.
"Not over," he whispered one last time—and then let himself move for the first time in an hour.
Mika walked down the hallway, pushing through clusters of students on his way to his next class. But this time, his thoughts weren't on *who* he was passing—he was too busy plotting.
He knew what he needed to do.
Jake was going to be his.
Even if it meant destroying what he had with Felix.
Mika pushed open the door to his next classroom, heading to a seat in the back. He wasn't here to focus on some pointless History lesson. He needed a plan.
His gaze darted around the room—searching out potential candidates, weighing possibilities. He had options. Lots of them.
But only one would get him what he really wanted.
Jake.
---
Mika's eyes narrowed, his mind finally settling. Even without the idea of *kidnapping* Felix, he had a plan.
He could do this the right way, and get exactly what he wanted.
The end-of-day bell rang, and Mika stood stiffly, shoving his books into his bag. He had one goal in mind.
Find Felix—and make him choose.
There was only one place Felix would be after school: the dance studio.
He'd spend all afternoon there, lost in pirouettes and pirouettes and leaps and turns and whatever other moves the teacher made him practice that day until sundown.
Mika walked briskly toward the studio, mind racing.
He knew it was wrong to mess with the relationship Felix and Jake had… but he *desperately* wanted some of that for himself.
And he wasn't going to let something as simple as *morality* get in the way of that.
Mika paused outside the studio door, listening to the faint sound of soft music coming from inside. There was a light on—Felix was still here, just as Mika had hoped.
He exhaled slowly, nerves fluttering in his chest. He could do this. Just get in there, talk to Felix, and win him over.
*Piece of cake*, a voice murmured in his mind.
He ignored it, opening the door.
The music was a slow, haunting melody—piano notes drifting through the air like whispers.
Felix stood in the center of the empty studio, bathed in golden evening light. He was barefoot, arms lifted, eyes closed—dancing slowly to himself. Not rehearsing. Not performing.
Just *feeling*.
Mika froze in the doorway.
He hadn't expected this.
Not beauty.
Not peace.
And certainly not the sudden, sharp pang of envy—for something so simple yet so out of reach for him: *belonging*.
But then Felix turned—and saw him there—eyes wide with surprise… and just a flicker of fear?
Mika stepped inside before he could lose his nerve.
"Hey," he said softly—the lie already forming on his lips. "I came to apologize."
Felix blinked, frozen in place, as if expecting a cruel punchline to follow. "You… you did?" he asked warily, hands curling nervously.
Mika nodded, walking calmly closer. "Yeah," he murmured, feigning sincerity. "I was an asshole back there. I wanted to set things right."
He stopped a few feet away—close enough to see Felix stiffen nervously at the proximity
Mika forced a gentle smile, trying for *reassuring*. "I'm sorry…" He let out a soft sigh, letting sincerity slip into his voice. *Only a trace.* "I didn't mean to come off as… you know. Rude."
Felix didn't say anything for a moment, studying him warily. Those green eyes were guarded—
"…thanks," he replied politely, still holding a distance between them. *So careful.*
Mika took a slow step forward, the wooden floor creaking softly under his weight. "I mean it," he said, voice low and smooth—practiced. "I… actually think I misjudged you."
Felix blinked. "Misjudged me?" he echoed, arms crossing slightly over his chest.
Mika nodded, letting a faint smile touch his lips. "Yeah. You're not just some shy little Omega clinging to Jake." His eyes flicked down—then back up—measured. "*You're* strong in your own way."
He let the silence stretch just long enough for the words to sink in.
And then—
"I wish *someone* had seen that in me once."
Felix's breath caught.
Not because it was true.
But because—
For one terrible second—
—he *believed* Mika meant it
And that scared him more than any threat ever could…
Mika's heart skipped a beat as that *one* brief flicker of belief crossed Felix's face. It was as if he'd said the exact right thing to make him *vulnerable*—just the way he wanted.
But then that flicker was gone, and Felix's eyes were guarded again. "That's…" he seemed to struggle with words. "That's a high compliment, coming from you."
Mika bit the inside of his cheek to keep the triumph off his face. He could *work* with this.
"I'm just being honest," he murmured, taking another step closer. "Can I… ask you something?"
*Got him.*
He was *so* close now. A few feet all, tops. Close enough to smell Felix's warm honey scent: a subtle hint of sweetness wrapped in woodsmoke warmth.
Mika forced his gaze back up to those sharp eyes, locking on them like he was *fascinated* by the guarded look there.
"How on earth," he said almost casually, "are you so… comfortable in your own skin?"
Felix stiffened at the question, confusion replacing the wariness on his face. "Comfortable? Me?" he echoed cautiously, hands curling even tighter.
Mika nodded, keeping his voice as soft as possible. "Yeah, you," he said quietly. "You seem to know exactly who you are."
And he wasn't lying about that. Felix did have a beautiful kind of quiet confidence that seemed to glow like a quiet fire. He was *certain* in a way Mika had given up hoping to be.
Felix hesitated, looking away for a moment. "I…" he was clearly at a loss, struggling to answer.
Mika tilted his head, watching the uncertainty flicker across that pretty face. Was it nervousness—or something else?
"You seem so sure of yourself," he said again, taking another step forward. "Even when you were sitting there, dancing… you looked like *nothing* could hurt you."
Felix let out a soft, humorless laugh. "You're wrong," he whispered, finally meeting Mika's gaze again. "I'm not… invincible. I'm just good at pretending."
Mika's breath caught.
*Pretending.*
The word landed like a key turning in a lock.
Because that—*that* was what he'd been feeling all along.
Felix wasn't unbreakable.
He was just hiding his cracks better than most.
Mika stepped even closer—close enough now that the space between them hummed with tension, thick and fragile as spun glass.
"Then let me see it," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "*Really* see you."
Felix's pulse jumped in his throat.
Not from fear this time—
But something far more dangerous:
**Possibility**
Felix trembled slightly, breath unsteady. "See me... why?" he whispered, voice breaking on the edge of panic and something else—something like longing.
Mika reached out slowly, carefully—his fingers brushing a strand of hair from Felix's cheek. The contact sent a shiver down both their spines.
"Because maybe," Mika said softly, "I'm not the only one who's been pretending."
Felix's breath caught at the touch, fingers clenching into fists at his sides.
Mika's fingers lingered, gently tracing the shape of that sharp cheekbone. Something deep in his chest *yearned* for more—to see those eyes go hazy with touch.
To be the one who *made* that happen.
"Maybe," Felix said at length, voice so low Mika had to lean forward to hear, "maybe I'm not quite as good at pretending as you think."
Mika's breath hitched, eyes fixed almost greedily on the hint of vulnerability in Felix's face. "Is that so?" he asked softly, fingers trailing down to the edge of Felix's jaw.
He'd meant for the touch to be teasing, light…
But as his thumb brushed the edge of Felix's bottom lip, he realized it was trembling—just barely—and a low *something* rose in his throat. Something that felt like hunger.
The room was deathly still except for the quiet sounds of their breathes.
Mika had to fight the urge to step closer and *keep* touching—to explore what *other* spots were sensitive, what other little reactions he could get by just being close.
"Then," he murmured, gently tracing the delicate line of Felix's jaw with one finger, "prove it."
Felix shivered—an open book of vulnerability in that single moment—before catching himself and pulling back, putting more distance between them.
Seeing Felix pull away *burned.* Mika's hand dropped to his side, missing the feel of skin beneath his fingertips.
He tried to play off the loss with a soft smirk. "Scared?" he teased, voice steady despite the ache in his chest.
Not a moment too soon. The wariness was back in Felix's eyes, that quiet confidence slipping back into place. "*No,*" he said, a hint of defiance creeping back in. "It just seems unwise."
That *defiance* flared something in Mika. He tilted his head, eyes glinting in the fading evening light. "Unwise?" he repeated, voice sharp with mockery. "Or just uncomfortable?"
Felix's eyes narrowed. "That too," he said shortly.
Mika stepped forward again—just close enough to force Felix to look up. "Why is that?" he asked, voice soft enough to be almost dangerous. "Are you scared you'll *enjoy* it?"
Something flickered in Felix's eyes—uncertainty mingled with stubbornness. "No," he said defensively, chin lifting a fraction. "I just don't want to."
Mika's heart thudded in his chest. He wanted to reach out again—to touch Felix's face, his hair, his hands. To draw out another flutter of vulnerability.
But he settled for a smirk, feigning indifference. "You're a terrible liar," he murmured, eyes flicking down to Felix's lips.
"And you're a terrible distraction," Felix shot back, voice shaking just slightly—just enough to betray him.
Mika caught it. *Licked his lips.*
"Then why haven't you run yet?" he whispered, stepping closer again—closing the space Felix had fought so hard to keep.
The air between them crackled.
Felix's breath hitched.
His body screamed *danger*—
But his heart?
It whispered:
*What if…?*
Mika saw it—the split second of surrender in those wide eyes.
And that's when he knew:
He didn't need to kidnap Felix.
He just needed to be the one who *understood*.
One touch at a time.
---
The sound of a car pulling up outside shook Mika back out of the moment, eyes flicking to the window.
*Jake.*
Felix swallowed, stepping back—putting that safe distance between them once again. But the way his hands trembled…
He hadn't been untouched by what just happened either.
The studio door creaked open, and Jake stepped inside—tall, dark-hair, sharp-eyed. His gaze immediately landed on Mika.
"What are you doing here?" Jake asked, voice low with suspicion.
Felix looked between them nervously. "He… he was just leaving," he said quickly.
Mika smiled—slow and unreadable—and took a single step back.
"Just having a chat," he said smoothly. "Right, Felix?"
Felix didn't answer.
And as Jake moved to wrap an arm around him—protective, possessive—
Mika turned toward the door…
...mouth curving into something cold and quiet:* I'm going to kill him*. Get ready Felix because the real game is about to begin.
*Let the real game begin.*