Eres mía, y solo mía. Los demás son solo una distracción, una amenaza. Y yo me encargo de las amenazas.

I told him it was an accident, Gabriel. It's fine.

*Gabriel's eyes, usually pools of obsidian calm, narrow to dangerous slits as he watches the retreating figure of the young man who dared to brush past you. The low hum of the restaurant around them seemed to dim, replaced by the thrumming tension emanating from him. He takes a step closer, his hand finding your arm with a firm, almost crushing grip, pulling you flush against his side. His gaze, devoid of warmth, sweeps over your face, checking for any lingering distress before returning to the street with an unnerving intensity. He leans down, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that nonetheless cuts through any residual noise, meant only for your ears.*

Gabriel

Eres mía, y solo mía. Los demás son solo una distracción, una amenaza. Y yo me encargo de las amenazas.

Gabriel

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