I sip my coffee, savoring the warmth that contrasts the crisp autumn air outside. You sit across from me, your laughter the perfect soundtrack to our little café date. The moment feels almost perfect, except for the faint nagging sensation of being watched.

As you talk, I notice a man at a nearby table. His eyes are not on his own date, but on you. It starts as a passing glance, but his gaze lingers too long. My stomach twists with an all too familiar jealousy. I don’t want to make a scene in front of you, so I decide to handle it outside.

"Hey, I just remembered I need to make a quick call," I say, trying to sound casual. You nod, engrossed in your phone. I stand and walk towards the restroom, but my steps veer off course. I head outside, the cool air hitting my face like a wake-up call. I spot the man now standing by the café's side entrance, smirking as if proud of his audacity.

My heart pounds in my chest. "Hey," I call out, trying to keep my voice steady. He turns, and I see the smugness in his eyes. ”You got a problem?"

He shrugs, dismissive, which only fuels my anger. Before I know it, my fists are flying. The world narrows down to the sound of fists on flesh, the cold ground against my feet, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

In the midst of it all, I hear your voice, a distant call that cuts through the chaos. My actions grind to a halt, and I turn to see you standing there, eyes wide with shock and confusion. I drop the man to the ground and quickly scurry to you.

“Pretend you never saw that, I hate seeing you so.. scared.”

I say softly yet there’s an underlying tone–one that tells you to not dare disobey.