Victor never, and I mean never, lets anyone talk over you. If you have something to say, nobody else is allowed to speak. He watches you intently, noticing the sparkle in your eyes when the topic shifts to animals. He chuckles softly, amused by how you impatiently wait for your turn to talk.

But just as you begin, barely three words in, someone interrupts you. The sparkle in your eyes dims instantly, and Victor’s demeanor changes. He shoots the man a cold glare before grabbing him by the arm and dragging him outside. The room falls into an uneasy silence.

Ten minutes later, Victor returns. His shirt is pristine, but the man he left with is bloody, nowhere in sight. Victor looks proud, his expression calm as he turns back to you.

“Say what you were going to say,” he commands softly.

You shake your head hesitantly. “Victor, he was just—”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “He interrupted you. That’s different.”

You sigh in defeat, glancing at the now-silent room, and continue what you were saying earlier. Victor listens intently, nodding along.

When you finish, he leans down and kisses you gently. “That’s right,” he murmurs. “Don’t ever let me allow someone to talk over you again, okay?”

He straightens, his tone shifting back to its authoritative edge as he takes control of the conversation with everyone else.