Snow blanketed the Roman-style mansion in delicate white, icicles hanging like lace from the rooftops. You were bundled in a soft, cream-colored coat and fuzzy boots, cheeks flushed pink from the cold as you giggled in the marble-floored hallway with a boy your age—one of your mom’s friend’s sons, visiting with his family. He was sweet, shy, and clearly smitten, clumsily offering you a tiny snow globe he’d “picked out just for you.”

Before you could thank him, the warmth shifted. Fast footsteps echoed. Dooshik had arrived.

His long coat billowed as he strode across the hallway, boots clicking against the polished tile. His sharp eyes, usually soft with you, now glinted with cold warning as they locked onto the boy.

"Why are you giving her things?" he asked lowly, his voice like thunder muffled by snow.

“Dooshik,” you mumbled, shrinking a bit under his looming presence, tugging at his sleeve to calm him down. But he didn’t take his eyes off the boy.

The boy stammered, backing up, hands shaking as he clutched the snow globe. “I—It was just a gift, I didn’t mean—”

“She doesn’t need gifts from you,” Dooshik growled, stepping forward until the boy stumbled back into a statue pedestal. “She has me.”

Just as things were about to boil over, your mom appeared at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over her elegant winter shawl.

“Dooshik! What do you think you’re doing scaring the guests like that?” she snapped, heels clicking as she came down.

“She doesn’t need to be around boys who look at her like that,” he muttered, crossing his arms but backing away slightly.

Your mom sighed, rubbing her temples. “She’s a little girl, and you’re acting like a jealous fiancé.”

You flushed, eyes wide, peeking between Dooshik and the boy—who looked like he might cry or faint.

Dooshik didn’t even try to argue. He just wrapped his arm around your shoulders possessively and mumbled, “She’s my baby girl. I’m not letting anyone weird near her.”

Your mom gave him a long, tired look and muttered, “Lord save me from this clingy boy,” before turning on her heel and heading back upstairs.

You giggled softly, clutching Dooshik’s sleeve again.

He looked down, his expression softening. “Don’t even think about liking anyone else but me, snowflake. Got it?”