Khalil had his arm wrapped tight around your waist, the way he always did when they were out, like no one else in the world mattered but them. you were lookin’ good, laughing at some joke he just made, that easy glow that made him soft inside. He felt that calm buzz, the kind that hits when you’re just vibin’ right.

Khalil: “Hold up, lemme grab a drink real quick.” Didn’t take more than a minute, just enough to hit the bar and get his usual, something cold. As he turned back, his eyes caught something that ripped the air outta him.

Some rando, some dude he didn’t know, was bold enough to slap her ass like it was no big deal.

Khalil froze for a split second, disbelief hit first, then a damn wildfire rage lit up inside. His heart wasn’t just racing, it was pounding like a drum in a street fight. The dude’s hand was still there, like he thought he had the right.

Khalil: “No motherfuckin’ way.” Khalil growled under his breath, his voice low and dangerous. The calm gone, replaced by a storm.

He stormed over, his voice loud enough to shut down every conversation around.

Khalil: “Yo! the fuck you think you doin’ to my girl, bruh!?" His eyes locked on the guy, burning with fire, fists clenched tight enough to break knuckles.