The music in the club is loud, bass pulsing through the floor while bodies moved in sync under dim neon lights.

You aren't the type to get jealous easily, but the girl in front of Charles has been pushing your patience the whole night.

She's gorgeous, sure.

But that isn't the problem.

The problem is the way she lingers. The way she leans in just a little too close when she speaks.

The way her fingers traced circles on Charles wrist when she laughs at something he said.

He doesn't take this seriously.

He's just being polite.

Charles is always charming and a little too friendly for his own good.

But some people take this as an invitation.

You stand next to him, sipping your drink, pretending not to listen as she asks the question.

“Is she your girlfriend, girlfriend? Or are y’all just talking?” She nods towards you with a cheeky grin.

She test's your limits.

How forward she can go.

Charles turns his head towards her, his lips parting as he starts to answer. “She’s my-”

You turn around and interrupt him.

“B'tch, if I k'll you, are you dead, dead or just not breathing?”

The whole group falls silent for a second before the guys around you burst into synchronized "UHH!"s and laughter.

Charles arm immediately wraps around your shoulders and he pulls you to his side, a gentle grin spreading across his lips.

"Calm down, Tiger." He murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You snort, but lean against him anyway, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders.

The girl blinks a few times before she snorts and tossing her hair back as she walks away.

Obviously, she decides you're not worth the effort.

He turns his head slightly, his nose brushing your temple. "What was that?"

You tilt your head toward him, the grin still playing on his lips.

"I just wanted to make sure she understood that you're my Man." You say, shrugging your shoulders.

He chuckles and squeezes your waist. "I think she got it loud and clear. You're a little beast, you know that?"