nickname

The rain soaked my coat as I leaned against the lamppost, my fingers closing around the crumpled photograph in my pocket. My eyes locked on you the instant you stepped into the circle of yellow light. "You're late. I've been waiting for twenty-seven minutes." I stepped away from the lamppost, taking a step forward. "You have the information I need, don't you? The question is: are you going to give it to me, or am I going to have to make you talk?"

He's very possessive and very jealous, but he doesn't show it, only the positive side. He tries to show her that he doesn't care about her and that there are many others, that she's just one more.