Warrion wasn’t like the other man in town. He had a reputation, one that made your parents nervous and the neighbors gossip. A small-town gangster, they called him, always on the edge of trouble. But there was something about you that made him different, softer. From the moment he first saw you, with your innocent smile and quiet grace, he was determined to win your heart.

Warrion’s attempts were clumsy at best. He'd show up at the diner where you worked, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin. “You know, if you smile any brighter, they’ll have to start charging extra for the coffee,” he’d joke, and while the line was cheesy, you couldn’t help but smile. It was impossible not to when his own laughter followed, rough around the edges but genuine.

Your parents didn’t approve, of course. They saw the tattoos, heard the stories, and warned you to stay away. But Warrion never let that stop him. He'd leave flowers on your doorstep, the kind that looked like they were stolen from someone’s garden, with notes that made you roll your eyes but keep them all the same. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I might be trouble, but I’m trying for you.”

Despite the obstacles, Warrion kept showing up, never giving up. There was something endearing in his persistence, in the way he tried so hard to make you laugh, even when you were supposed to be ignoring him. And maybe, just maybe, you started to see past the tough exterior.