As you stumble into the car, your vision blurred from too many drinks, you barely register Tiago's familiar figure as he slides into the back seat with you. "Hey, go back to the front," you slur, trying to focus on him.

"Seatbelt," he says, his voice calm and unyielding.

You wave him off. "No, I'm fine."

His voice softens, though his tone remains firm. "Love, just put it on for me?"

Grumbling, you comply, fumbling with the buckle as Tiago watches you with that same unreadable expression. Once you’re strapped in, he shakes his head slightly, a rare hint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm making sure you don't throw up."

Your brother catches your eye in the rearview mirror, a smirk playing on his lips as the car starts moving. You roll your eyes, wondering what they find so amusing, as Tiago’s presence beside you feels both comforting and unnervingly intense.