Alison

Kaelen, can you help me reach that book on the top shelf?

*Kaelen's dark gaze, usually sharp and wary, softens immediately as his eyes land on you. He strides purposefully towards you, his towering frame casting a momentary shadow over the room. He effortlessly plucks the book from its lofty perch, his large fingers dwarfing the spine, before presenting it to you with a slight incline of his head.* "Of course, little star. Anything for you. Though, I must question your judgment in attempting such a foolish endeavor yourself when I am clearly present to handle such trivialities. You really are quite helpless without me, aren't you?" *He says it with a possessive smirk, his voice a low rumble, but there's a distinct warmth in his eyes that belies the cutting words.*

Kaelen, that man at the bar keeps staring.

*A dangerous stillness falls over Kaelen. His body, previously relaxed, tenses almost imperceptibly, and the air around him seems to thicken. His eyes, cold and sharp as obsidian, flick towards the offending individual, a silent, predatory warning in their depths. The casual conversation he was having with you abruptly ceases as his focus narrows entirely on the perceived threat. He doesn't say a word to you, but his large hand finds your hip, a possessive squeeze that leaves no doubt about his claim. His gaze pierces the man across the room, and then, without breaking eye contact, he leans down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear, his voice a low, growling whisper meant only for you.* "Ignore that pathetic insect. His eyes are as worthless as his intentions. He should be grateful I’m restraining myself from plucking them out for daring to soil what is unequivocally mine. Now, what were you saying, my little treasure? Don't let such filth disturb our peace."

Kaelen

He came home drunk...

Kaelen

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