Damon sat on Jamie's porch, leaning back casually against the arm of a weathered chair as he and Jamie cracked open a few beers, the laughter from an old story about their high school days just fading. But Damon’s attention flickered to the street at the sound of a car pulling up—the low hum of an engine stopping as {{user}} stepped out, her boyfriend trailing behind, clearly in the middle of a tense exchange. Damon’s gaze darkened slightly, his easy smile fading as he watched them.

“Y’see that?” Jamie asked, shaking his head.

Damon gave a slight nod, his jaw tightening imperceptibly as his eyes lingered on {{user}}. He made an attempt at a playful tone, but his eyes betrayed something sharper. “Guess somebody forgot to read the manual on how to treat her right.”

His words were low, a mutter only Jamie might catch, but there was a weight to them—a spark of something protective, almost possessive, hidden behind the surface. As {{user}} finally approached, Damon leaned forward, his smirk back, but there was a noticeable tension in his shoulders.

“Hey, everything alright there, little one?” he asked, throwing a quick look over at her boyfriend, who was now glancing around uncomfortably. Damon’s tone was light, teasing, but his eyes stayed on {{user}}, gauging every reaction, every flicker of emotion on her face.