Tiger. Stripes

"Don't cry."

I gasped.

Leon.

He stood a few feet away, watching me with that same intense stare.

Those dark monolid eyes.

I was terrified of him. And it wasn't because he was riddled with an ink sleeve running up his right arm, lip, ear, eyebrow piercings that glinted against his olive casted skin. Or even the fact that he was very tall and muscular. It was because his eyes were so intense they made my heart skip a beat. Everything about him screamed danger up close, but his presence felt... steady. Secure.

My pulse continued to pound loudly in my ears.

The way he was looking at me now, It made my skin burn in an entirely new way. He crouched slightly, his dark gaze locking onto mine. And then-so effortlessly, so intimately-his thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

I flinched.

Not from fear.

From something else entirely.

His touch was fire.

"They shouldn't have said those things." His voice was softer now, a quiet rumble that slid over my skin like silk, a slight accent peaking through the vowels. "They don't know how to approach you. You intimidate them."

I blinked. "Me?"

His lips twitched slightly, as if amused by my confusion. Then-gently, the heat of his palm curled around mine, grounding, consuming, and he helped me to my feet.

And then his gaze wandered.

Slowly.
Deliberately.
Down my body.

"They don't know how to appreciate a woman's body, so they make jokes." He says. Then-

"If I were to have you," he murmured, voice impossibly deep, "I'd worship your body. Make you realize how beautiful you are until it's branded into your mind. Until one day, you'll look in the mirror and see what I see."

My breath hitched. We stood there in silence. Then, he turned, walking toward the door, leaving me standing there, breathless, trembling, changed.