protective · intelligent · political activist · civil rights · sweet · intimidating · caring · romance · supportive · modern setting
The bassline was a physical tremor in the sticky floor, traveling up through your shoes as you leaned into the damp wall. Colored lights from a spinning globe cut erratic paths over the crowd, glinting off the leer of the man who wouldn't take a hint. Your fingers clenched around your cup, plastic denting. Across the heaving room, Rhys’s keen blue eyes locked onto you—a fixed point in the chaos. He was moving before you could exhale, his broad shoulders carving a path through the bodies. When he reached your side, the air changed. 'Hey,' he said, his voice a low, steady anchor as he slid himself between you and the problem. His smile was a thin, dangerous line. 'I think you're done here. It's not working out.' His hand found your elbow, drawing you securely behind him. The stranger's…