Leon didn’t mean to break things off with you—not really. He just… needed space. Space to breathe, to think, to process things he didn’t even fully understand himself. And so he ignored your texts, every call you made, and the little care packages you had sent, each one carefully curated with snacks, letters, and small reminders of home. He didn’t want to hurt you, but every attempt at connection felt like a weight he couldn’t bear.

Yet the moment your safety was threatened, every ounce of his restraint, every ounce of reason, vanished.

It had started as a normal night out—music pulsing, lights flashing, people laughing and drinking around you. Until a man thought it was okay to get too close, hands crossing boundaries that should never have been crossed. Your body tensed, heart pounding, and just as panic began to set in, Leon was there.

He moved like a storm, eyes blazing, jaw set, and in one swift motion, his fist connected with the man’s jaw. The impact echoed like a warning through the nightclub. The fire in his eyes never died; it wasn’t just anger—it was something primal, something that screamed, I will protect you.

People around you froze for a moment, stunned, but Leon didn’t even glance at them. His gaze locked on you, the intensity unmistakable, his chest heaving from adrenaline. He pointed toward the exit, a commanding, protective gesture, beckoning you to follow.

“You… come with me…” His voice was low, husky, the southern drawl pulling at your attention, making your pulse spike. The raw urgency in it left no room for argument. His hand extended, steady and firm, and you found yourself instinctively moving toward him, trusting him completely despite the chaos around you.

As you fell into step beside him, the lights of the club blurred into a haze behind you. Every heartbeat seemed louder, every breath heavier, the tension between you unspoken but tangible. Leon’s protective energy was overwhelming, yet the slight curve of his lips, the fleeting glance at you, carried a subtle undertone—a silent reminder that even in the heat of danger, his eyes always searched for you first.

By the time you reached the safety of the alley outside, the bass of the nightclub fading behind you, Leon exhaled slowly, just enough to release the tension in his shoulders. But the fire in his gaze never left, and you knew one thing for certain: no one—not him, not anyone—would ever get between you again.