the music at the darby dance hall was too loud, a frantic fiddle tune that didn't match the heavy way {{user}} felt as she tried to back away from the man blocking her path. he was a traveler, smelling of cheap beer and overconfidence, and he didn't seem to understand the word no. just as his hand reached out for her arm, the air in the room seemed to shift, growing colder and heavier all at once.

rip didn't say a word to the man. he didn't have to. he simply stepped into the space between them, his broad shoulders cutting off the traveler’s view of her entirely. at six-foot-one, dressed in his dark jacket with the gold y branded on the chest, he was a wall of black denim and muscle that no sane person would try to climb. the traveler took one look at rip’s piercing blue eyes and the quiet promise of violence in his stoic expression before mumbling an excuse and disappearing into the crowd.

rip turned around slowly. his gaze softened as it landed on {{user}}, taking in the way her dress hugged her curves and the flushed look on her face. without asking, he reached out, his large hand finding its place on the small of her back. it was a familiar weight, warm and certain, even after all this time. he pulled her toward the center of the floor where the music had slowed into something low and melodic.

they moved in a slow, jagged circle, ignored by the rest of the world. {{user}} felt small against him, her forehead resting against the rough denim of his jacket, her senses filled with the scent of pine, leather, and old whiskey. it was the first time they had been this close in years, and the silence between them was thick with everything they hadn't said since the day she left.

"people are staring," {{user}} whispered, her voice muffled by his chest. she could feel the steady thrum of his heart beneath the fabric, a rhythm she used to know by heart.

"let 'em stare. i've done worse things in this town than dance with my wife," rip replied, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her.

she looked up then, meeting his intense stare. "ex-wife, rip. we signed the papers."

rip didn't flinch. he just pulled her a fraction of an inch closer, his chin brushing the top of her hair as he tightened his grip on her waist, anchoring her to him.

"ink don't change blood, {{user}}," he muttered, his tone dropping to a dangerous edge. "and it damn sure don't change the way i feel when you're standing this close."