Beneath the Bully's Gaze

Strings Attached

Mira sat at her desk, organizing her books with meticulous care, the weight of the day's lessons pressing down on her mind. As the final bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, her thoughts began to wander. She still had her part-time job to get to—just another grueling shift to help pay the bills. Her fingers absently tapped the edge of her notebook as she thought about the hours ahead, but then, an all-too-familiar presence made itself known beside her.

Mira froze, her heart skipping a beat as she glanced up to see Ethan standing over her. His presence loomed like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over her every thought. His eyes, as usual, were unreadable, but there was something about his expression today—a mixture of irritation and something that felt a little more...calculating.

"What... what is it?" Mira asked, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness as she instinctively gripped her books tighter to her chest.

Without a word, Ethan leaned in, his hand coming down on the edge of the desk with a thud. His proximity made her heart race as she instinctively shrank back, but he blocked her escape with ease. His gaze locked on her, intense and unwavering.

"Your phone," he demanded, his voice low and sharp. "Give it to me."

Mira blinked, taken aback by the request. "What? Why?" she asked, her mind racing with confusion. "Why do you even need my phone?"

Ethan's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening slightly as he stared at her with an expression that bordered on condescending. "Because I need to be able to contact you," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If I need something, I want to know I can reach you anytime. Isn't that clear enough?"

Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. The audacity of his request made her stomach churn. "But... but you could just ask me in person," she said weakly, trying to assert some control in the situation. Her voice faltered slightly, but she forced herself to stand her ground. "Why do you need my phone?"

Ethan scoffed, rolling his eyes in mock disbelief. "It's not about asking, Mira. It's about convenience," he said, his voice dripping with dismissiveness. "You're acting like this is a choice. Do you really think you have a say in this? I'm not asking. I'm telling you."

Mira's pulse quickened. She didn't want to give him her phone—not only because it was old and cheap, but because it felt like another invasion of her privacy. She tightened her grip on it, but Ethan's gaze didn't soften.

"Are you going to give it to me, or do I have to take it from you?" he pressed, his tone icy. There was no room for negotiation, no space for refusal.

Mira hesitated, her fingers trembling as she clutched the battered phone in her hand. It wasn't anything special—just an old model that had seen better days. The screen was cracked, and the battery was barely holding a charge. But it was hers, and that's what mattered. She wasn't about to let Ethan have it so easily.

"No," she said, her voice more forceful than she felt. "It's my phone. I'm not giving it to you."

Ethan's lips curled into a sneer, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. "Oh, so this is how it's going to be?" he asked, taking a step closer to her, his towering frame intimidating. "You really think you're going to stop me from getting what I want? Your phone's not even worth the trouble, but you're making this harder than it needs to be."

Before Mira could react, Ethan moved with sudden speed, his hand snaking out to grab her phone. She pulled back, but he was faster. The force of his motion made her stumble slightly, and for a brief moment, their bodies brushed—a fleeting contact that sent an involuntary jolt through her. She barely registered the sensation, too caught up in the shock of his sudden aggression.