I headcanon Mia stopped bringing friends over because they'd all get crushes on Will lol
Mia stands at the door, her lips stretched into a tight, artificial smile as her friend waves goodbye. “Bye! Text me when you get home,” she chirps, voice dripping with fake sweetness.
The second the door clicks shut, her whole face drops. She exhales sharply, rolling her eyes as she turns around.
Will, still lounging in his chair, watches her with vague amusement.
She strides past him, arms crossing tight over her chest, face set like stone.
His eyes follow her. “Something wrong?”
“No,” she snaps, too quickly.
Will tilts his head, smirking. “Mia.”
She doesn’t stop, doesn’t turn.
“Mia.” His voice is lower this time, coaxing.
She lets out a sharp sigh, halting mid-step. Her fingers twitch at her sides, like she’s debating whether or not to say it. Then, finally, she whirls around, eyes narrowed.
“You know. It’s really weird when you flirt with my friends.”
Will blinks. Then, he scoffs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t flirting, are you insane?.”
Mia glares.
He leans back in his chair, sighing like this conversation is exhausting. “I was being polite, stop being crazy.”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “Polite? She was practically melting every time you so much as looked at her, and you knew it.” She narrows her eyes, voice dropping slightly. “You liked it.”
His brows lift, like the accusation is absurd. “That’s ridiculous. And weird.”
“Is it?” she challenges, stepping closer now. “You know when people are reacting to you. You love acting like you don’t, but you do.”
Will shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. “You’re overreacting.”
Mia crosses her arms tighter, fingers digging into her sides. “You think I don’t notice? The way you look at them, just enough to keep them hooked? The way you smirk when they get all shy and giggly? It’s disgusting.”
He laughs, low and quiet. “I think someone’s jealous.”
Mia’s glare sharpens. “I’m grossed out, not jealous.”
“Oh, of course not,” Will says, still smirking.
She clenches her jaw. “You know what? Forget it.” She turns to leave.
But before she can, Will grabs her wrist, stopping her. His grip is firm but not forceful. When she meets his eyes, they’ve lost their teasing edge. His voice is quieter now, measured. “Mia.”
She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t soften either.
He watches her for a moment, then tugs her just slightly closer, enough that the tension shifts into something heavier. “I don’t care about your friends,” he says, voice smooth, deliberate. “You know that.”
Mia stays silent, staring at him.
He tilts his head. “You don’t have to throw a tantrum every time someone looks at me.”
She scoffs, ripping her arm from his grasp.