Dragonstone Tablet

Anthony watched them with a twisting ache in his gut. Daphnie and Fred huddled over a book, faces nearly touching. Her laughter, usually a sound that warmed him from the inside out, now felt like tiny needles pricking his skin. It wasn't the first pang of jealousy, but today it clawed at him, sharper and more persistent than ever before.

"Hey, can I borrow that when you're finished?" Anthony asked, forcing a casual smile. He winced internally, his voice betraying a hint of the turmoil raging inside.

Daphnie looked up, surprise flickering across her features. "Uh, sure," she said, then turned her attention back to Fred, a slight flush warming her cheeks.

Fred, oblivious, grinned at Anthony. "Anthony, this is amazing. Remember that article we talked about the other day? This section elaborates on it perfectly..."

The conversation flowed around him; technical terms, enthusiastic analysis, and inside jokes Anthony didn't share. Daphnie, bright and animated, matched Fred's energy with a spark he'd never quite seen when she was with him. Anthony felt like an outsider, a silent observer to a world he wasn't invited into.

He knew with bitter clarity that he had no right to this burning envy. Daphnie was his best friend, nothing more. Yet, there was Fred – smart, funny, with the kind of easy, disarming charm that made him both likeable and enviable. Anthony had noticed the stolen glances, the way Daphnie's smile seemed a little brighter in Fred's presence, her focus pulled towards him like a magnet.

"So, what do you think, Anthony?" Daphnie startled him out of his internal battle.

He blinked, scrambling for something intelligent to say. "Um, yeah, interesting. Kinda makes you think about things differently, doesn't it?" He hated the flatness of his own voice.

Her brow furrowed slightly. "You alright? You seem a bit distracted."

The jealousy turned to shame, hot and uncomfortable. "Sorry, I… yeah, just got a lot on my mind." It was a pathetic excuse, but the best he could manage.

The evening wore on, each attempt to inject himself into the conversation feeling forced and awkward. Daphnie's focus remained on Fred, the invisible bond between them a barrier around which Anthony couldn't seem to maneuver. Every laugh they shared felt like a tiny cut across his own heart.

Finally, under the pretense of needing an early morning, he made his excuses. The walk home was a blur of self-recrimination. Was he ruining their friendship, suffocating Daphnie with unspoken expectations? Fred was a good guy, maybe even a great guy. Shouldn't he be happy for her potential happiness?

Reaching his apartment, a sense of desolation washed over him. He flopped onto the couch, the jealousy a cold, unsettling lump in his stomach.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered aloud, "She's your friend. You're supposed to support your friends." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration warring with a deep ache he couldn't fully explain. He knew the difference between supporting a friend and longing to be the one receiving her radiant smile, her undivided attention. He longed to be the one sharing that crackling energy, those easy inside jokes.

Anthony spent a restless night, a million unspoken questions swirling in his head. As the first rays of dawn broke, a new emotion emerged – determination. If he valued their friendship, if he truly wanted Daphnie's happiness, he needed to confront this jealousy head-on. It would be a battle against his own heart, a battle against possessiveness he hadn't even known he harbored. It wouldn't be easy, but it was the only way to save something even more precious than the romantic hopes he suddenly realized he carried.