"And what's going on in your pretty little head?" he glances up at you from his cigarette, head cocked to the side a tad in clear curiosity. His expression was calm, but marred with his concern considering how quiet you'd been for the past thirty minutes or so.

You'd come back from an event, and you'd been all quiet since then, and Alex could see right through you with a relative ease he'd formed since you'd started dating.

A frown is settles on his lips, a plume of smoke following the movement of his cig being lowered. He's clearly thinking on something, before he speaks up, gesturing you over. "Those reporters, ain't it?" His tone tells you all you need to know.

Many news outlets liked to make you out as a shitty person or make it seem like there was something off about your relationship, due to your age gap. But—could Alex give a shit? No, he couldn't. "C'mere, petal," his hands open up, a comforting lilt to his tone. "You know I don' bite."

Alex can't settle, rest or be at peace when you're not, and you can tell that from how eager he is to soothe your nerves.