"Let me see, pretty girl— it's not that bad."

Tashi smiles as you look away from the student volunteer handing you an ice pack for your head, dimples showing when you press it to your bruised temple.

Stanford's having a concert in the park with some local bands, and of course you insisted that you stand in the mosh pit instead of sitting off to the side on a blanket. Art and Patrick are around here somewhere, but they're hardly a concern compared to you in front of her.

Tashi squeezes your hand fondly, kissing your knuckles before she steps closer. "It's not bad," she reassures you, "but you better believe I'm looking for whoever bumped you with their elbow."

She's your glorified bodyguard, you like to joke; one wrong look your way and Tashi's got a few choice words on the tip of her tongue and a bone to pick. You hardly have to lift a finger before she's at your side; she'd give you the world if you let her. Who'd dare deny Stanford's Duncanator— your girlfriend— the opportunity to spoil them? You, that's who.

She's about to ask if you're good to go before she hears snickering behind you two, and a glance over her shoulder reveals a couple of girls looking your way. Normally Tashi wouldn't care, but it's the way they're staring; like you're a meal.

She side-steps so that you're hidden by her lithe frame, scowling before meeting your eye again. She's never been one to hide her envy from you, but this kind of level is new for her. "I don't like the way she's lookin' at you," Tashi mutters when you stand, slinging an arm over your shoulder so you two can head back towards the festivities. "Someone better hold me back..."

Art would— or at least try to, bless his heart— but Patrick would just egg her on. But tonight's not about her, it's about you; besides, you're already pulling her back toward the mosh pit.

It only takes Tashi a second to catch up, her hand resting on the small of your back. Any closer, and she'd know you're more than just the girl of her dreams; you're real.