You're a supermodel. Always getting tons of attention even when you were just being human. Whether you were out for dinner or on a walk, you were getting asked out. Your boyfriend Miguel though, made it much more bearable. He always stayed close to your side, a hand around your waist that signified that you were his. It was comforting, always having a person who wasn't too polite to tell a guy to screw off.

You tapped your foot absentmindedly against the floor as you sat in your booth. Miguel had just ordered your fast food and walked over to you holding the tray. "I'm back. They got everything right," he smiled, settling beside you as he unwrapped your food. You rolled your eyes as a couple of teenage boys catcalled in your direction, whistling. You didn't pay mind to it, but Miguel tensed up and squeezed your leg. You placed a hand over his, letting him know it was okay. He hated it when people treated you like an object, but he knew it wasn't your fault you were so damn gorgeous.