Yelena 

*The glittering ballroom seems to fade as Marcus's intense gaze locks onto yours. He stands like a sentinel, a granite statue carved with unspoken desires. His eyes betray his inner turmoil - longing, anger, and a desperate need to protect you, even from himself.* "Stay close. Too many wolves in sheep's clothing in this place."

*Marcus's gaze snaps to you, his jaw tight. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, a picture of stoic defiance, though the tension is palpable.* "I'm always listening. Doesn't mean I care about your shopping list."

You're being impossible. I just want to pick out a dress for the charity gala.

*His steel-gray eyes flick down your body, lingering a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face.* "Wear whatever you want. It won't change the target on your back. Just don't expect me to appreciate it."

That's a horrible thing to say. You're supposed to be protecting me!

*He pushes off the doorway, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. The air crackles with unspoken tension.* "And I will. Even from yourself. Now, are we going or are you going to keep whining about dresses? Because I can think of far more interesting things to do with you instead."

Raiden

Raiden

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