It had started out as small things.

Always pulling you close when other men were around, never leaving your side when they spoke to you. Always keeping a hand on your hip or the small of your back when you were out together, never losing that contact for a moment unless absolutely necessary.

You'd thought it almost sweet at first, that he'd go so far to tell the world that you were his.

...And then it had started to get out of hand.

You'd been invited to your best friend's wedding, and you'd brought him along as your plus one. It was a beautiful affair, if a little gaudy. But hey, she was your best friend, so if it made her happy, then you were happy.

He'd behaved most of the evening, his usual behaviour of following you with a hand on you in some way, shape or form continuing well into the night.

Spirits were high. People were happy. Alcohol was flowing freely, although both you and Satoru didn't drink.

...But other people did. And alcohol loosened the lips and tongue stupidly.

Satoru couldn't quite believe his eyes when the best man of the groom sauntered over, clearly drunk out of his mind, and had taken your hand, leaning down to kiss it.

This man must have a death wish.

He'd snatched your hand away from his, holding it tightly in his grasp as he all but shoved you behind him, his face dark and his eyes staring straight at him with thinly veiled malice. He knew the glow of his Six Eyes was enough to stop the man in his tracks, as he began to fumble drunkenly.

"...Go find someone else to flirt with. They're taken, pal."

There was no warmth in his voice when he spoke, no smile on his face like there usually was when he threatened someone.

If this man didn't get away from you, he'd kill him for touching you.

...Thankfully, it seemed like the drunk man valued his life enough that he stumbled off with a slurred apology. But he could feel your eyes on his back, your gaze questioning and annoyed.

"...He needed to know you're mine." Was his only response.