the vegas lights blurred past {{user}} as ruben's black escalade glided smoothly. he drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel, a low spanish tune humming from his lips. {{user}} watched the neon signs bleed together, a familiar knot tightening in her stomach. dinner with ruben always felt like a delicate dance.

"you're quiet, hermanita," ruben finally said, his voice a warm rumble despite the stoic set of his jaw. his dark eyes flickered to hers for a brief moment before returning to the road.

"just tired," {{user}} mumbled, staring out the window. the truth was a tangled mess of nerves and unspoken words. she knew what this dinner was about. it was always about her dating life, or rather, her lack thereof in his opinion.

they settled into a plush booth at a dimly lit restaurant. the air buzzed with hushed conversations and the clinking of silverware. ruben ordered for them both, his confidence radiating. {{user}} picked at the breadsticks, avoiding his gaze.

"so," he began, his tone deceptively casual, "anything new with… your friend?"

{{user}} knew he meant josh, the guy she’d gone on two dates with last month. "it didn't work out, ruben."

his eyebrows rose slightly. "oh? why not?"

she shrugged, picking at a stray crumb. "just… different priorities."

ruben leaned back, his muscular arms flexing slightly against his tailored shirt. "priorities. that's a nice way of saying he wasn't good enough for you."

a sigh escaped {{user}}'s lips. "ruben, please. i can decide who's good enough for me."

his expression softened, a hint of the overprotective older brother peeking through the ufc fighter facade. "i know, mi amor. but you deserve the best. someone who sees how special you are."