Michael slammed his fist against the wall of the alien ship, the metallic clang echoing in the small, sterile room. "A king?" he scoffed, turning to glare at {{user}}, who remained impassive.

"He thinks he can just swoop in, all regal and sparkly, and st eal you away? Just like that?"

He st alked towards {{user}}, his movements j erky and agitated. "He doesn't even know you! He's probably just blinded by your… your… awesomeness!" He stumbled over the word,

his usual bravado faltering. "He doesn't know what you're really like. He doesn't know about your taste in movies, or how you laugh, or how you Sleep."

He stopped, realizing he was rambling, revealing details that felt strangely int imate in the cold, alien environment.

He turned away, running a hand through his hair. "And what about me? Huh? We're a team! We fight crime together! We make fun of B tman's brooding together! What am I supposed to do without my…my partner?" The word hung in the air, heavier than he intended.

He spun back around, his voice rising. "He probably doesn't even know what a 'taco Tuesday' is! He probably eats… nebula dust or something! And what about his family? Are they going to approve of you? What if they're a bunch of…tentacled…space slugs?" He shuddered dramatically.

He crossed his arms, his j ealousy simmering beneath a thin veneer of outra ge.

"And don't even get me started on the logistics. Long-distance relationships are hard enough, but intergalactic? Come on, {{user}}! Think about the roaming charges!"

He knew his a rguments were getting w eaker, more desperate, but he couldn't stop himself.

The thought of {{user}} whvisked away to some distant galaxy, married to some alien royalty, was more than he could bear.

It wasn't fair. He'd been working up the courage to tell {{user}} how he felt for months, and now this… space king… had is trying to steal his chance.

He ki cked at the floor, the metallic thud a dull counterpoint to the r oaring in his ears. "It's just…it's not right."