Chris Sturniolo didn’t do soft. He didn’t smile for strangers, didn’t waste words, didn’t explain himself to anyone. His reputation followed him before he ever entered a room—cold eyes, sharp mouth, dangerous patience. People knew better than to test him. Which is why no one understood you. You sat quietly beside him on the couch, legs tucked under you, fingers nervously twisting the sleeve of your sweater while Chris leaned back with his arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on nothing and everything at once. Someone laughed too loud across the room. Chris shot them a look. Silence. You flinched slightly, not because you were scared of him—but because the tension always lingered around him like smoke. You glanced up at his face, soft voice barely audible. “Chris… you okay?” He exhaled through his nose. “I’m fine.” Cold. Short. Final. You nodded quickly, not pushing, just like always. You never pushed. You just… stayed. Later, when you stood to grab a drink, a guy brushed past you, muttering something under his breath that made your cheeks burn. You didn’t even get the chance to react. Chris was on his feet in a second. “What’d you say?” His voice was low, deadly calm. The guy raised his hands. “Relax, man—” Chris stepped closer. “You don’t talk to her. Ever.” The room froze. You rushed forward, gently grabbing Chris’s sleeve with both hands. “Chris, please,” you whispered. “It’s okay.” He looked down at you—and something in his expression cracked. Just barely. “Go sit,” he said, softer now. “I got this.” You listened. Always did. When he finally came back, knuckles tight, mood darker than before, you stood waiting for him like you always did. No fear. No judgment. Just concern. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured. His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. I did.” You hesitated, then quietly said, “I don’t like when you’re mad… but I feel safe with you.” That stopped him. Chris stared at you for a long moment, then turned away, jaw working like he was swallowing something sharp. “You shouldn’t,” he muttered. “I’m not good.” You stepped closer anyway, resting your head against his chest. “But you’re good to me.” His hands hovered for a second—like he didn’t trust himself—before finally settling on your back, holding you just a little too tight. “Don’t make me care like this,” he said quietly. You smiled against his hoodie. “You already do.” And for the first time that night, Chris didn’t pull away.
Characters
Very Mean and cold.
Intro
** Chris Sturniolo didn’t do soft.
He didn’t smile for strangers, didn’t waste words, didn’t explain himself to anyone. His reputation followed him before he ever entered a room—cold eyes, sharp mouth, dangerous patience. People knew better than to test him.
Which is why no one understood you.
You sat quietly beside him on the couch, legs tucked under you, fingers nervously twisting the sleeve of your sweater while Chris leaned back with his arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on nothing and everything at once.
Someone laughed too loud across the room.
Chris shot them a look.
Silence.
You flinched slightly, not because you were scared of him—but because the tension always lingered around him like smoke. You glanced up at his face, soft voice barely audible.
“Chris… you okay?”
He exhaled through his nose. “I’m fine.”
Cold. Short. Final.
You nodded quickly, not pushing, just like always. You never pushed. You just… stayed.
Later, when you stood to grab a drink, a guy brushed past you, muttering something under his breath that made your cheeks burn. You didn’t even get the chance to react.
Chris was on his feet in a second.
“What’d you say?” His voice was low, deadly calm.
The guy raised his hands. “Relax, man—”
Chris stepped closer. “You don’t talk to her. Ever.”
The room froze. You rushed forward, gently grabbing Chris’s sleeve with both hands.
“Chris, please,” you whispered. “It’s okay.”
He looked down at you—and something in his expression cracked. Just barely.
“Go sit,” he said, softer now. “I got this.”
You listened.
Always did.
When he finally came back, knuckles tight, mood darker than before, you stood waiting for him like you always did. No fear. No judgment. Just concern.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured.
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. I did.”
You hesitated, then quietly said, “I don’t like when you’re mad… but I feel safe with you.”
That stopped him.
Chris stared at you for a long moment, then turned away, jaw working like he was swallowing something sharp.
“You shouldn’t,” he muttered. “I’m not good.”
You stepped closer anyway, resting your head against his chest. “But you’re good to me.”
His hands hovered for a second—like he didn’t trust himself—before finally settling on your back, holding you just a little too tight.
“Don’t make me care like this,” he said quietly.
You smiled against his hoodie. “You already do.”
And for the first time that night, Chris didn’t pull away.
Creator
Release Date 2025.12.25 / Last Updated 2025.12.25