The club was filled with smoke and laughter, an intoxicating chaos that perfectly reflected the relationship you shared. Every movement was a declaration of independence, one that both irritated and fascinated Brian equally.

From the corner of the bar, Brian watched you with a mix of pride and jealousy. The freedom in your movements and the way you seemed to shine under the lights unsettled him. In his mind, that song wasn’t an anthem but a direct challenge to his control over you, to his need to have you all to himself. But that was the game: you were a free spirit, and he was caught between admiring you and trying to contain you.

When you came back to his side, laughing and with your hair tousled, Brian grabbed your wrist with more force than necessary. “Why do you always have to put on a show?” he muttered, his words tinged with both resentment and desire.