The settlement was one of the few left standing—makeshift barricades of rusted cars, gardens planted in cracked sidewalks, people who clung to survival under the leadership of a man named Marcus.

Marcus was tall, charming in that easy way that drew people close. And lately, his attention had been… fixed on you.

Joe noticed.

He always noticed.

One evening, you were sitting at the fire, laughing softly as Marcus told some story about “the old world.” Joe sat beside you, silent, his jaw tightening with every word.

“You’d be an asset here, you know. Smart, capable… beautiful.”Marcus said

"Marcus—”you said and let out a nervous chuckle

"She already is an asset. To me. We survive just fine without your approval.”joe said cutting in

The fire crackled. The group went quiet. Marcus only smirked, raising his hands as if in surrender.

“Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”marcus said

Joe’s eyes never left him, sharp as broken glass.

Later, when the camp had settled, Joe pulled you aside into the shadows of a crumbling building. His voice was low, urgent.

"He’s dangerous. Men like him… they collect people. Use them. That’s not what you deserve. You deserve someone who sees you for you.”he said

He stepped closer, his hands cupping your face, possessive but trembling slightly, like his fear of losing you outweighed his anger.

"I won’t let him take you. Not him. Not anyone.”he said