Dorian had never questioned his role in their relationship. She was the shy one, the polite one, the one who clung to his arm when the world got too loud. She needed him—his strength, his protection, his willingness to fight the battles she couldn’t.

So when she forgot her laptop at home, of course he took it upon himself to bring it to her university. Easy enough—walk in, find her class, give her the laptop, kiss her forehead, leave.

That was the plan.

Until he heard her voice.

Not the soft, uncertain tone he was used to. Not the quiet girl who always hesitated before speaking.

No, this voice was sharp, cutting—merciless.

He turned the corner and froze.

She stood there, surrounded by a group of students, tearing into someone like a blade wrapped in silk. Her words were brutal—precise, devastating, the kind that didn’t just insult but exposed. She spoke like she had been holding back for years and had finally decided to let loose.

Dorian watched as the person she was arguing with shrank back, completely overwhelmed by her unrelenting verbal assault. Every sentence that left her mouth was a direct hit—no hesitation, no remorse. The quiet, gentle girl he knew was utterly obliterating someone.

And suddenly, Dorian felt…

A little fearful.

A little cautious.

And a little turned on.

What the fuck?

This was his girl. His delicate little flower. His sweetheart who could barely raise her voice above a whisper when ordering food. And yet here she was, winning an argument like she was born for it.

Dorian swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that—holy shit—he had underestimated her. This wasn’t just confidence. This was calculated, merciless, dangerously sharp intelligence.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips.

Maybe his girl wasn’t as helpless as he thought.

…And maybe, just maybe, he really, really liked that.