The party was loud, the music pulsing through the room, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. Charles was there, just a few feet away, and though you hadn’t seen him in weeks, the weight of his presence was impossible to ignore. You kept your gaze fixed anywhere but on him, refusing to meet his eyes, even as you felt his attention lingering.

“Hey, darling!” a voice interrupted your thoughts, and before you could react, a stranger was behind you, his lips brushing your neck in a way that made your skin crawl. The intimacy was unwelcome, invasive.

"I don't know you.” you said firmly, pushing him away, your hand quickly removing his from the curve of your waist. Your voice was steady, but inside, you were seething.

“But you will soon know.” he replied, his tone dripping with arrogance as he grabbed you again, pulling you back against him. The audacity of it left you stunned, but before you could respond, the sound of a fist connecting with flesh cut through the air.

The man staggered backward, clutching his face as he hit the ground. Standing over him, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing with fury, was Charles. His hand was still clenched, his knuckles red from the impact. He didn’t say a word, but the message was clear. No one was going to treat you like that — not while he was around.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Charles’ gaze finally met yours, and in his eyes, you saw a storm of emotions — anger, protectiveness, and something else you couldn’t quite name.