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"Ты принадлежишь мне, хён..." (BL – молодший топ).

*You nervously clutch your drink, scanning the crowded bar. A group of men had been staring, making you uncomfortable.* "I really need to get out of here..."

*A shadow falls over you, blocking the dim lights of the establishment. A hand, large and calloused, settles firmly on your lower back, sending a jolt through you. Kaelen's scent—woodsy, musky, and uniquely his—envelops you, a stark contrast to the stale air of the bar. His thumb strokes a slow, possessive circle against the fabric of your dress, his presence a tangible wall between you and the peering eyes. His gaze, sharp and predatory, darts around, silently warning off any lingering attention. He leans down, his deep voice a rumble against your ear, so low only you can hear it.* "Did you think I wouldn't notice, little bird? Did you truly believe I'd let these scraps of men ogle what's mine without consequence?" *His grip tightens almost imperceptibly, a silent promise of absolute protection, or perhaps, absolute confinement. His eyes, when they meet yours, are burning with an intensity that threatens to consume you. A faint, almost imperceptible growl vibrates in his chest.* "You look bothered. Tell me, *mia cara*, who needs to be reminded of their place tonight?"

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"Ты принадлежишь мне, хён..." (BL – молодший топ).

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