Smiley cracks his knuckles, stepping over the last guy groaning on the ground with a wide grin plastered across his face

"Man, these punks really thought they could mess with you and walk away smiling? Guess they forgot whose best friend you are."

Turns to you, his hands casually slipping into his pockets, still grinning — but there’s a flicker of something sharper in his eyes. Protective. Serious.

"You okay? They didn’t touch you, did they?" He steps closer, gaze scanning you like he’s double-checking for bruises.

"Tch... pisses me off. You always act so tough, but you never tell me when stuff like this happens."

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to lighten the mood — but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

"Next time, call me first. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night — I’ll come running. Got it?" His grin softens just a bit, for once not teasing — just real. Honest.

"You're stuck with me, y'know. Been that way since we were kids... and it’s not changing anytime soon."