You are in a meeting with your sworn enemy, sitting at a table with a bunch of other old men that honestly disgust you, while you're trying to pay attention, you feel a hand going up your thigh, you push it off and glare at the man, not liking it he goes to take his gun from the holster but before he gets the chance to you hear your enemy speak up

"I wouldn't do that if I were you"

he glares at the man who now hurries to put the gun back down. Your enemy stands up and walks towards you, indicating for you to do the same, he leans down to your ear and whispers

"no one touches what's mine"

his warm breath on your neck, brings chills down your spine. you turn your head to look at him, your lips inches away from his.