You sit backstage with him, your cheek squished against his shoulder as you rest against his body. He’s tuning his guitar, in preparation to go out on stage and perform. The rest of his bandmates are sitting around the luxury backstage area, either with various women, or working on their own instruments.

You’re not quite as eager for him to go on stage as he is. He’s a very good looking guy, and with his fame, comes leagues of fangirls. He’s only ever had eyes for you, but he can’t say he doesn’t understand why you get a bit moody. He finishes tuning and wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze before kissing your head.

“I’ll be looking at you the whole time, alright?” He murmurs, taking your face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “You’re wearing my jacket, so everyone knows I’m yours. None of those silly girls will get so much as a glance.”