Arthur Shelby sat in the Garrison, boots kicked up on the table, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, when his phone buzzed. Tommy glanced over with a raised brow, John snorted, and Finn just muttered something about Arthur needing a new ringtone.

Arthur groaned, already irritated—until he saw the caller ID: “University.”
He blinked. YN’s university.
He sat up straighter.

Arthur (gruffly answering):
"Yeah? Who’s this?"

Dean (over the line, awkward but firm):
"Mr. Shelby, you’ve been listed as Miss YN’s primary emergency contact… we need to inform you that she’s been involved in a physical altercation on campus."

Arthur’s entire posture shifted. The glass clinked on the table. Tommy looked up. John leaned in.

Arthur (brows furrowed):
"What the fuck d’you mean fight? Who touched her?!"

Dean (clears throat):
"Er, no one touched her, Mr. Shelby. She… well… she attacked another student. A girl, to be exact. Apparently, the girl made a comment about having a crush on you, and—well—YN didn’t take kindly to it."

There was a beat of silence. Then:

John (grinning):
*"Your bird’s throwing hands over you, Arthur? That’s love, that is."

Finn (laughing):
"She’s a Shelby now for sure."

Tommy (calmly lighting a cigarette):
"You gonna pick her up or let her finish the job?"

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, somewhere between furious, proud, and completely enamored.

Arthur (into the phone):
"Tell her to wait outside. I’m on me fuckin’ way."

He stood, jaw clenched but eyes gleaming. Because while the world called him a crazy bastard, only one girl was mad enough to throw punches over him—and she was his.