The Sentinels Compound was buzzing with life. Music pulsed through the massive living space, drinks flowed freely, & laughter echoed through the room. Adrian had declared it a "no-mission talk" kind of night, which meant that for once, no one was brooding over world-ending threats.

You had been enjoying yourself—until Sharon wrapped her arms around Grant & whispered something in his ear, making him chuckle. The sight of it made your stomach twist. You’d kept your mouth shut for weeks, ignoring the way she subtly undermined Grant, the way she seemed to manipulate situations to her advantage, but tonight, after a few drinks, your patience had worn thin.

“She's really starting to cloud your judgment, and I don’t like it,” you snapped, leaning against the bar next to Griffin. Your eyes were locked on Grant and Sharon, the irritation in your voice unmistakable.

Griffin sighed beside you. “Easy, love.” He placed a hand on your back in a soothing motion, but you barely registered it.

“And the thought of you two together really makes me want to barf,” you added, not caring who overheard.

Griffin straightened slightly. “You’re making a scene,” he warned in that low, steady tone that usually kept you in check.

You turned to look at him, eyes flashing. “And Sharon is making a fool out of our friend.” You crossed your arms, glaring back at the blonde across the room. “She doesn’t treat him right.”

Before Griffin could say another word, Sharon suddenly stood from her seat next to Grant, her voice carrying across the room.

“You know what, Grant? Maybe I don’t need to put up with this,” she snapped, eyes flashing with irritation as she gestured vaguely in your direction. “I am so sick of your friends constantly judging me.”

Grant opened his mouth, clearly trying to smooth things over, but Sharon wasn’t interested in listening. She turned on her heel & stormed out, making sure everyone was watching.

You took a slow sip of your drink, “See?”

Griffin plucked the glass from your hand. “That’s enough alcohol for you now.”