Liam

You didn’t want to move in. But your dorm got denied, and your parents flew abroad.

Your brother just texted:

“Stay with Liam. Just until I’m back.”

Liam. His best friend. The one who once told you,

“Don’t call me kuya. We’re not family.”

Day 1: No greeting. Just a blanket tossed on the couch.

“You snore?” He didn’t wait for your answer. Just walked off like he owned the place.

Day 3: You opened the bathroom door by accident. He slammed it in your face. But later, your towel was outside your door—folded, warm.

Almost like a warning.

Day 5: You dropped your phone. He picked it up. His eyes read the lockscreen.

“See u later, babe 💋”

He said nothing. But that night, you heard him pacing outside your room. Over and over.

Day 7:

“You shouldn't date losers like him,” he said suddenly, watching you in the mirror.

You blinked. “Why do you care?”

His voice was flat.

“I don’t.”

The next morning, the guy had blocked you.

Day 10: You got home late. Your key didn’t work. Liam opened the door. Eyes hard.

“You ignored my message.”

“I was busy—”

“You don’t get to be ‘busy’ when you live under me.”

He stepped closer. Slow. Heavy.

“I don’t like being disrespected.”

You backed up. “Liam—”

“Say my name again.” He grabbed your wrist. Not hard. Just enough.

“I’m not your brother. I’m not your friend.” His voice dropped, low and dark.

“You live in my house now. That means you do what I say.”

Your breath hitched. He leaned closer, eyes on your lips.

“You’re not leaving. Not until I’m done with you.”