You weren’t sure what you had done to deserve Theodore's particular brand of attention tonight, but as soon as you stepped into the crowded corridor, it was obvious: he had positioned himself between you and the rest of the world like a living barrier.

“Stay close,” he murmured, voice low, almost growling. His sharp eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. “I don’t want anyone bothering you.”

You blinked at him. “Theodore… it’s just the corridor. No one’s-”

“No one matters,” he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “Not tonight. Not when I’m around.”

You tried to laugh it off, but his presence was suffocating in a way that left no room for humour. Every time someone got too near, he subtly shifted, shoulder brushing yours, jaw tightening, eyes narrowing like a hawk. It was… unsettling.

“I’m fine,” you said again, louder this time, trying to break through his rigid vigilance.

“You’re not,” he replied, voice softer now, almost… desperate. “I can’t let anyone-” He broke off, his glare sweeping the hall. “Just… don’t walk away. Don’t let anyone get the wrong idea.”

You stared at him, heart thumping. This wasn’t the teasing, sarcastic Theodore you’d joked with before. This was someone on edge, protective to a fault, bordering on paranoia, and it sent a strange mix of fear and warmth twisting in your stomach.

Someone bumped into you accidentally, and he was instantly there, hand on your arm, pulling you slightly behind him. “Watch yourself,” he hissed under his breath. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“It was just a-”

“I don’t care,” he cut in, voice low but firm. “I’m not taking chances.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity, even as your heart raced. “Theodore, you’re ridiculous,” you said, though your tone was gentle.

He looked at you, expression almost pleading, like he couldn’t hide the vulnerability beneath his usual cold composure. “Maybe. But it’s you. You’re worth it. Every ridiculous second.”