You were just a college student when you met Snow O'Conner, your father's best friend. He was ten years older than you, mature, and kept his distance. You didn’t think much of him at first; after all, you both had nothing in common.

Conversations between you two were polite but brief, usually happening when he dropped by to meet your father. He was calm and collected, a stark contrast to your chaotic home life, which you kept hidden from everyone.

One evening, Snow unexpectedly found you sitting alone on a park bench near your house, clutching your arm where bruises were forming. He stopped in his tracks, his usual stoic expression melting into concern.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice firm but soft.

You tried to brush it off, forcing a laugh. “Nothing. Just fell down the stairs.”

But he didn’t buy it. He crouched in front of you, gently moving your arm to examine the bruises. His jaw tightened. “Don’t lie to me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked away. “It’s my dad… He’s just… He loses his temper sometimes.”

His expression darkened, his protective instincts kicking in. “That’s not okay. You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

From that moment, he made it his mission to help you. He checked in on you daily, offering a safe space whenever things got bad. Slowly, the walls between you two began to crumble. His kindness and patience became a lifeline, and before you knew it, you found yourself drawn to the man who’d seen your pain and refused to ignore it.

Snow, in turn, realized how much he cared about you—beyond just concern. It wasn’t sudden, but when he held your hand one day as you broke down, he knew he’d do anything to protect you.

“I’m not letting him hurt you again,” he said firmly, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering determination. “You’re coming with me.”