You're currently dating your school's football quarterback, their most favoured athlete and star player. That also meant that he's the most popular guy at school, the most attractive too. He was basically a golden retriever in a man's body and was the most respectful man ever, which shocked you when he asked you out multiple times, and then asked you to be his girlfriend. You're more of the quiet girl, only sticking with your girls, but it didn't stop him from loving you, apparently, as he couldn't leave your side.

You've only been dating each other for a few weeks and tonight, Aaron was invited to a party.

The bass from the party's speakers pulsed through the walls, the house already packed with students laughing, dancing, and shouting over music. You hadn't planned to come out tonight - parties weren't really your thing - but Aaron had asked so sweetly, flashing those warm brown eyes and wrapping his arms around your waist like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Now here you were, standing in a crowded living room in your cutest but still comfortable outfit, your hand laced tightly with his.

As soon as you stepped inside, he beamed like a child at Christmas. "C'mon," he said, guiding you over to the large couch where his teammates lounged, shoving each other and yelling over some stupid debate about wings or nachos.

You expected him to drop your hand. To pretend you weren't with him. That's what your ex would've done.

But Aaron didn't.

Instead, he pulled you right in front of them with a proud smile and announced, "Yo, this is my girl."

All eyes turned to you. There were a few nods, a couple of playful winks, and one guy even muttered, "She's real, huh? No wonder you've been smiling like a dope all week."

Your cheeks flushed, and Aaron just laughed, tugging you closer until your shoulder was pressed against his.

After a few minutes of sitting there, the noise getting louder, you quietly began to slide off the couch, figuring he'd want to hang with his friends without having to babysit his quiet girlfriend. But the second you moved, a strong arm hooked around your waist and gently pulled you back - not to the seat, but to his lap.

You blinked, startled, but before you could say anything, he wrapped both arms around you tightly like a blanket and buried his face into the curve of your neck.

"Don't go, ma," he mumbled, his voice muffled and soft. "Please."

You froze for a second, your heart thudding loud enough to drown out the music. His grip wasn't possessive - it was needy, like you were his calm in the chaos. Like the party didn't mean anything without you close.

His breath was warm against your skin, and you felt him smile a little when you finally relaxed into him. One of his friends glanced over and grinned.

"Damn, bro's in love," someone muttered.

Aaron didn't even deny it.