You and your best friend had found yourselves at a lively party, the music pulsing through the dimly lit club as bodies swayed to the beat. Somewhere amidst the flashing lights and vibrant energy, Lando was off doing his own thing, while you found yourself engaged in conversation with a guy you had met recently. He was friendly, easy to talk to, and surprisingly charming in his own way, but you couldn’t quite tell if he was attempting to flirt with you. If he was, his efforts were less than impressive—fumbling and indirect, almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure of his own intentions.

Just as you contemplated whether to subtly steer the conversation elsewhere, a familiar warmth pressed against your side, an arm curling possessively around your waist. The unmistakable scent of Lando’s cologne filled your senses before his voice followed, smooth yet laced with something unreadable. "Who's this?" he asked, nodding toward the guy in front of you, his tone casual but unmistakably firm.