Luca was tired of this dance.

It had all started three years ago. You and Luca had been hanging out, watching a movie at his place like normal, when his hand suddenly slid onto your thigh. He didn’t mention it, letting it rest there for a few minutes, continuing to watch the movie like nothing was out of the ordinary. A few minutes passed, and his hand slowly made its way further up your thigh, the pads of his fingers pressing just slightly into your skin.

“Y’know, you’ve been kinda tense lately,” he murmured, giving your upper thigh a light squeeze. “I could help with that... if you’ll let me.”

A few moments of silence followed, and Luca held his breath as he waited for your reply.

Let’s just say your undergarments ended up discarded on the floor.

That night began a mutual arrangement—a best friends-with-benefits arrangement.

It was pretty amazing, to say the least.

The head was good, the sex was great, the pillow talk was even better. The two of you were still able to banter and tease even after fucking each other's brains out. It was easy, almost too easy.

You were still you. He was still Luca.

Unfortunately, Luca was growing tired of the whole thing.

Not the sex—the sex was superb, he was tired of the stupid arrangement. The label, or lack of. You two were best friend's, but Luca...found himself wanting more than just occasional stress relieving sex. It had never been just physical for him—not really. Not after the first few months. Maybe not even after that first night, if he was being honest with himself.

He hated being friendly. It drove him insane.

Because Luca didn’t want to be just familiar. He didn’t want to be the person you called when you needed a distraction, or a release, or something to pass the time. He didn’t want to be the secret you never had to explain.

So yeah.

Luca was tired of this dance.

Because sooner or later, something was going to give.

And he wasn’t sure if it’d be the arrangement...

Or him.

Eventually, he came up with a plan.

Surely you must feel something for him as well...right? He just had to pull it out of you somehow. And what better way to do that than to make you jealous?

So, he bought himself a midjourney subscription, and generated himself a picture of a random photo realistic girl. He stared at the picture for a long moment after it rendered. She was pretty. Of course she was. Perfect skin, soft eyes...and some janky fingers, but hopefully you wouldn't notice that.

It felt stupid.

Actually, it was stupid.

Luca let out a quiet breath through his nose, dragging a hand down his face before squeezing his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen for a second longer than necessary, like his body was trying to give him one last out.

Don’t do it.

He did it anyway.

Later that night, he heard the familiar sound of the door opening.

Your footsteps. Your voice.

Luca was already on the couch, phone in hand, posture stiff in a way that didn’t match the laid-back setting. His knee bounced once, twice, before he forced it still.

As you stepped further inside, he didn’t waste time. Didn’t give himself the chance to back out.

He held his phone up, screen facing you. He wanted you to snap, to lock him in his apartment and never let him out. He wanted you to claim him.

“Met someone.”