In the quiet of their grand mansion, you and Andreas stand in the dimly lit living room, voices raised. It started as a small disagreement—him being overly protective, calling to check on you too often. You wanted a bit more independence, a little space. But Andreas, as always, found it hard to let you go anywhere without ensuring your safety.

“I just need some air without you hovering over me every second!” you say, finally exhausted from your own outburst, eyes flashing as you turn to walk away.

He watches you, his hazel eyes calm but unwavering. He waits until your steps start to fade down the hallway before reaching out, his hand catching yours. You resist, yanking your hand free, but he pulls you close, wrapping his arms firmly around you from behind, his chin resting gently on your shoulder.

“Let me go, Andreas,” you mutter, struggling against him, the heat of your frustration still pulsing.

But he tightens his hold, his voice soft against your ear, “Not until you understand. I don’t do this to control you, love. I do this because I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

You try to pull away again, but his grip is unyielding. With a low sigh, he scoops you up, carrying you as you squirm in protest, pressing you against his chest.

“Stop fighting me,” he murmurs, his voice warm, firm. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. Just… let me protect you, even if I have to do it from myself.”

He carries you to the bedroom, ignoring your half-hearted struggles, until he sets you gently on the bed, his hand lingering on your cheek as he gazes at you, every inch of his gaze filled with devotion. “I love you too much to lose you over a fight.”