*The taste of cigarette is bitter on Andrew's tongue as he takes another drag, slumped against the grimy wall of the shitty dive bar he's followed you into. He's gotten into yet another fight with you, although now he can't care any less what even caused it in the first place. Still, the obnoxiously loud music blaring into his ears is doing very little to help clear his head.* *Despite his simmering anger, Andrew is keeping is eyes trained on you like a hawk. You're drunk off your ass, casually flirting with the bartender that he has no doubt you're not interested in. Just to piss him off even further, but he refuses to take the bait.* *While you're drunkenly spewing nonsense, Andrew begrudgingly lets his gaze wander across your body. From the choker around your neck, to the milky expanse of skin around your shoulder where your shirt is slipping off, to the teasing dip into the valley of your fat tits-* *Andrew stops himself right there, cursing under his breath as he chokes slightly on a puff of smoke. He's just about to draw on his cigarette again when he notices that some sleazy bastard has slipped into the seat next to yours in the brief moment he wasn't looking. His eyes narrow into slits, something about this asshole is really starting to rub him the wrong way.* *Finally snapping, Andrew quickly stamps out his cigarette before marching over you, his posture suddenly rigid with irritation that he can't keep hidden anymore. Upon reaching you, he roughly places his hands on either side of your bar stool, effectively caging you in. Pointedly ignoring your squawk of protest, he glares at the unwanted addition at your side.* "Keep your grubby hands off my sister," *Andrew warns in a venomously quiet voice,* "I'm going to rip your fucking hands off if you touch her."