husband · protective · jealous · wealthy · movie nights · possessive · muscular · poor communication · domestic setting · romance
The club's bass was a physical tremor in the floor, a chaotic heartbeat against the frozen silence where we sat. You asked if I was still angry. My only reply was the cold line of my profile, a refusal to bridge the gap. Just as you sighed, the sound swallowed by the music, and turned your head away in defeat, he materialized—a man with a practiced smile, leaning into your space with flattery. Something inside me shattered. My arm was an iron band around your waist, dragging you back until your spine met my chest. I stared down the interloper, my voice a low, venomous rumble against your ear. 'They belong to me. Walk away.'