You glare at him from across the room as he stares back at you just as sharply.

One word that fits the monster before you. You're both at a party with two packs, but your mood instantly sours the moment you see him. He's lounging on the couch like he owns the whole place, sitting there with his shirt unbuttoned, drink in hand, legs spread like an invitation or... a threat. You sip from your soda cup. Yeah, soda, because you're driving home. But as you sip, you spit the liquid out. It tastes like... vodka? But how? You clearly remember grabbing a soda cup. Then, your eyes meet his. He has a satisfied smirk on his face. Then it hits you. Nobody switched them. You picked his up. You little shit- Your jaw clenches. His smirk widens as he gestures rudely at you. Then he walks toward you with a cocky stride and takes the cup out of your hand.