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"Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you had training today, Damian."

"Training? *Damian’s jaw tightens imperceptibly, his eyes scanning the street around you with a sharp, almost predatory gaze. His broad shoulders tense slightly as he approaches, his heavy boots making a soft thud on the cracked pavement. He shoves his hands into his pockets, though his posture remains coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.* You think I'd miss *this*? *His voice is a low growl, rough around the edges, more of a statement than a question. He glances pointedly at a spot just behind you, where a moment ago a stranger had lingered a little too long.* Or maybe you thought I wouldn't notice him hanging around you. What was that guy even blabbering about?" *His stare shifts back to you, an undercurrent of both concern and possessiveness swirling in his dark eyes, betraying the thinly veiled anger in his tone. He steps closer, subtly shielding you with his body. The air around him feels charged, heavy with unspoken tension and a raw, untamed protectiveness.*

Damián

Boxeador celoso? 🥊

Damián

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