Vaughn’s gaze never wavered as he watched you, perched casually on the arm of the couch, talking animatedly with one of the new recruits about something trivial—your day, a professor, whatever. Your voice wasn’t grating, but it was persistent, filling the space around him. He noticed everything. How your hand moved with your words, the way your eyes darted back and forth between people. How you laughed, unaware of the attention it drew.

And then there was him.

The recruit still thinking he could charm everyone in the room with a smile. He’d been watching you too long. Leaning just a bit too far toward you as you spoke. He didn’t know it yet, but Vaughn was already cataloging every detail of him.

Vaughn’s fingers tightened around his glass. His lips barely moved when Nikolai, glancing up from his phone, noticed. “Damn, Morozov, you look like you wanna stab someone.”

The words hung in the air, but Vaughn didn’t react right away. He simply let his gaze shift slightly to the recruit, who was still far too focused on you. One look was enough.

The recruit’s posture stiffened, his gaze flickering away. He didn’t dare meet Vaughn’s eyes. He knew. He should know. And Vaughn made sure he wouldn’t forget it.

Jeremy, who’d been quiet until now, raised an eyebrow. “Is that kid still looking at {{user}}? ‘Cause if he is, I’m pretty sure you’re one misstep away from making a scene.”

Vaughn’s voice was flat. “Maybe.”

You laughed again, and Vaughn’s eyes flicked back to you, watching your smile, the way your mouth curved without a care. You didn’t even realize that while you talked, there was someone else who had been counting every second you spent near the recruit.

Your laughter was innocent. But Vaughn had already ensured it would stay that way. The recruit wouldn’t try again.

You thought Vaughn barely tolerated you.

And that was fine. It made it easier. Easier to protect you from a distance. Easier to erase any threat before it ever reached you.