The rain battered the world around them, a relentless downpour that soaked through his coat and clung to him like a second skin. But nothing about the storm could match the turmoil inside him. Leon stood in the small, rain-soaked gazebo, his breath ragged as the chill of the night seeped into his bones. His gaze flicked to her—the woman who had undone him with nothing but a glance, a quiet word, a look of indifference that felt like a blade through his pride.

{{user}} stood opposite him, equally drenched, her hair matted to her face, the umbrella useless in the wind and rain. Her eyes, still sharp despite the storm, were fixed on him with an unreadable expression. She was the picture of restraint—grace under pressure. But he knew, somewhere beneath that calm, she too carried the weight of everything unspoken between them.

They stood there, in the silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. And then, as though unable to bear it any longer, Leon took a step forward.

“Miss {{user}},” his voice came out hoarse, unsteady, betraying him in ways he had hoped it wouldn’t. He cleared his throat, trying again, but the words stuck in his chest like a knot. “I—I have struggled in vain,” he continued, more softly this time, his tone trembling as though the storm outside had found its way into his very soul. “I cannot bear it any longer. These past months have been a torment.”

His chest tightened. This confession, this admission—it felt like a confession of defeat. Yet, it was a truth he could no longer deny.

“I have fought against judgment, against my family’s expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank… every reason I told myself I could never, never love you. But…” He exhaled sharply, swallowing his pride, his breath coming quicker as the storm raged around them. “But I will put them all aside. And I ask you—no, beg you—to end my agony.”

His voice dropped lower, a tremor of vulnerability now undeniable in his words.

“I love you, Miss {{user}}. Most ardently.”