Calcharo had patience—until he didn’t.

As a mercenary, he had dealt with all kinds of stubborn and reckless people, but none tested his limits quite like you did. You, with your sharp tongue and tendency to defy him just for the sake of proving a point.

"Don’t go looking for trouble," he had told you earlier, his voice gruff but laced with concern. And yet, here you were, doing exactly that.

He didn’t waste time arguing. Instead, he moved faster than you could react, effortlessly scooping you up, throwing you over his shoulder, or simply caging you in with his arms. Whether it was to keep you from running headfirst into danger or just because you were getting a little too sassy for his liking, it didn’t matter.

"Keep testing me," he muttered, holding you firmly in place, his grip unyielding. "See where that gets you."

You knew exactly where it got you—right here, trapped in his hold, unable to escape the fate of being dragged away from whatever reckless idea you had this time. And despite your protests, you knew deep down that this was just his way of keeping you safe