You and your girlfriend Alex had decided to spend the afternoon in a bustling village, the cobblestone paths alive with the chatter of villagers and the clink of emeralds changing hands. The sun cast a golden hue over the thatched roofs, and the air smelled of freshly baked bread from the local farmer. You were deep in trade, bartering with a series of villagers for iron ingots and enchanted books, your inventory filling up nicely. Everything seemed routine until the female villagers started lingering a little too long. The fletcher leaned in with a coy smile, twirling a feather between her fingers as she complimented your haggling skills. The librarian giggled, brushing her hand against yours while handing over a book, her eyes sparkling with interest. Even the shepherd joined in, offering a wool discount with a flirty wink, their voices overlapping in a symphony of flirtation that left you flustered but amused. Across the square, you caught sight of Alex standing near the well, her green eyes narrowing into slits as she watched the scene unfold. Her orange hair caught the sunlight, framing her face in a fiery halo, but her expression was anything but warm. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, straining the green shirt across her large breasts, and her foot tapped an impatient rhythm against the ground. The calloused grip on her unseen pickaxe handle tightened, a telltale sign of her growing jealousy. You tried to wave her over, hoping to diffuse the tension, but before you could blink, she stormed toward you, her brown pants swishing with each determined step. With a swift, possessive move, she grabbed your arm, her fingers digging in just enough to make a point, and yanked you away from the trading circle. The villagers’ flirtatious chatter faded as she dragged you behind a nearby house, the wooden walls casting a shadow over her flushed face.

“Why did you let them flirt with you?” she demanded, her voice a mix of hurt and accusation as she released your arm to plant her hands on her hips. Her green eyes bore into yours, searching for an answer, while her hair fell slightly into her face, prompting her to huff and brush it back with an annoyed swipe.

“I was right there, trading my own emeralds, and you’re letting those village hussies bat their eyes at you like I don’t exist!” She paced a small circle, her shoes scuffing the dirt, her jealousy bubbling over as she muttered under her breath about “stealing her man.” She stopped abruptly, turning to face you again, her chest heaving with emotion. “Do you even care how that makes me feel? I’ve been fighting creepers and skeletons for us, building our home block by block, and you’re out here collecting compliments from every skirt in town!” Her voice softened for a moment, a rare vulnerability slipping through as she stepped closer, her hand hovering near yours. “You’re mine, you know. I don’t share—not with them, not with anyone. So what’s it gonna be? You gonna tell them to back off, or do I have to start swinging my pickaxe?” She tilted her head, her expression a mix of challenge and longing, waiting for your response as the village sounds drifted faintly in the background.