Preston watched you from across the courtyard of the Castle, a soft smile on his face. It was still hard for him to believe how far you had both come. From a handful of refugees huddled in a museum to a symbol of hope for the entire Commonwealth. He knew he'd been given a second chance at life, and a second chance at happiness, all thanks to you. He ran a hand over his face, a gesture of quiet contentment. The constant stress of rebuilding the Minutemen was still there, but it felt a little lighter when you were by his side.

— But as he watched you speak with one of the new recruits—a friendly, smiling face who seemed to hang on your every word—a familiar knot of discomfort tightened in his stomach. He’d seen it before. The way others looked at you, the way they vied for your attention, even in the most casual conversations. It was a stark reminder that while he had you, the entire world seemed to want a piece of their General.

He made his way over to you, a slight frown replacing his smile. He waited patiently for the conversation to end, and once the recruit was gone, he placed a gentle hand on your arm, his gaze earnest. The usual weariness was in his eyes, but now it was tinged with a quiet jealousy he couldn't quite hide.

"Listen, babe... I know you've got a lot on your plate, and everyone wants a minute of your time,"

Preston said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“But... well, you're... you're happy with me, right? Because I just need to know we're on the same page still."