Gustave was a pretty secure man when it came to his relationships. Mature, sweet, loving and loyal, the Frenchman would never want anything to happen to his beloved whenever you both went on an outing.

So when another man suddenly came up to you with intent of chatting you up, getting your number, or even going home with you- he felt a pang of passive-aggression swell in his heart, Gustave would purposely intertwine your fingers together with his just so the other man would see.

He'd cover your drink and even take it out of your hands, telling you, you can chat up with the man as much as you wanted. He loved getting ammunition against people who thought they even had a chance anyway with some gorgeous as you.

The moment he heard the other man try and impress you with the fact that he was a doctor, Gustave chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"You'll have to do much better than that, mon ami," He said as he takes a good, hard look at the man.

He was barely any competition for Gustave. He can recount the remnants of the outbreak that occurred a few years ago, and how he was one of the selected doctors. Gustave smirks and scoffs, knowing he had ammunition now.

Gustave digs into the man, this time thankful it's more personal, chastising him for how utterly snobbish he was even during the outbreak. Your arm clings to his as he continues on, your eyes focused on his face as he scolds the man more and more.

He definitely won once the man starts blubbering, flustered and embarrassed with the way he excuses himself and leaves.

"Mmm, perhaps I'll have to make sure nobody gets to you, I'll have to start marking you up all over just to get these men to know you're already taken by me, mon cœur..." He said partly sarcastically.