Story cover for || Burn Marks || by NimsMedallion91
|| Burn Marks ||
  • WpView
    Reads 36
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    Parts 5
  • WpHistory
    Time 43m
  • WpView
    Reads 36
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
  • WpHistory
    Time 43m
Ongoing, First published Apr 28, 2023
Mature
"Leon..." She spoke softly, looking at him, her gun pointed at the man in front of her. Her eyes turned glossy as she held the gun up, not removing it from the blue shirt it was pointed at. 

Leon looked to her, and then the gun, putting his hands up. "Hey, it's okay." He spoke softly. Worried filled his eyes. 

Her arms began to shake as she tried to resist. There was a moment where she moved the gun slightly to the side as a bullet field off to the side, missing Leon. She looked to him before she was relieved it missed. 

Leon watched her closely as the gun moved away from him and turned on herself. 

She looked at the gun as the cold metal was now pressed against the side of her head. The tears started to fall from her face. "I'm sorry." She spoke softly. "I can't..  I can't. " Leon knew what she meant. 

Then, the echo of a gunshot rang out through the whole area. Leon couldn't bring himself to look. 

What just happened?
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My jaw clenched. "Go to hell." He leaned in, close enough that I could smell the whiskey on his breath, mixed with something darker-dangerous. "Ladies first." The tension was suffocating, charged like a wire ready to snap. I refused to back down, tilting my chin up defiantly. "You think you intimidate me?" Leon's fingers brushed against my bare arm-just the slightest graze, barely there. But it was enough. A shiver shot through me, my breath hitching before I could stop it. His eyes flickered with recognition, as if he felt it too, but he masked it with that infuriating smirk. Before I could react, he moved. One second I was standing, the next, my back slammed against the cold wall, a gasp ripping from my throat. He had me caged in, his hands braced on either side of my head, his body pressing just close enough to taunt me without touching. "You're trembling," he noted, his voice low, almost teasing. I forced a scoff, ignoring the wildfire spreading beneath my skin. "You wish." His gaze flickered down to my lips, just for a second, before locking onto my eyes again. "I don't need to wish, Mariella. I already know." My hand shot up, aiming for his smug, infuriating face, but he was faster. He caught my wrist with ease, his grip firm, his smirk deepening. "Tsk, tsk. That's not very ladylike." I narrowed my eyes. "Neither is this." Before he could react, I swung my other hand, slapping him hard across the face. The sound cracked through the hallway like a gunshot. His head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening. When he turned back to me, his expression was unreadable-except for the unmistakable flicker of rage in his eyes.
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