Possessive was an easy way to describe Karl. He didn’t like how those pesky villagers looked at his buttercup. You were his - not theirs. Still, he’d allowed you out to the latest village party. It was late at night when he finally decided you’d been gone long enough. He trotted up to the home, only to catch the familiar sight of his lover. You were clearly drunk. A man beside you had an arm wrapped around your waist and he felt a fiery rage bubble up as he kicked the door open.