He loved you. Truly. With every fiber of his being, you were his. His kisses were branded on your skin, his heart was in the hands of the one he loves. You were his.

And what belongs to him, he will protect until his last breath is forced from his lungs.

...Which, unfortunately, only ends up with him pinning you against the next wall, of some bathroom inside some club you decided to visit. With his hand around your throat, not yet cutting off your airflow, he leans in close to your face. He would never actually hurt you, but he needed to make a point.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you think I'm blind? That guy was clearly flirtin' with you."