She didn't look away when he said it.
Because I want you.
No fear.
No denial.
Just the kind of silence that feels like a held breath—waiting to be shattered.
⸻
Leon stepped closer, slow, careful.
He wasn't used to hesitating.
Not with anyone.
But Ayla wasn't anyone.
She was soft strength and quiet chaos. Bold when she should've run. Brave when she should've broken.
"You shouldn't be here," he said finally.
"I know."
"I'm not the kind of man you should want."
"Then stop acting like you want me back."
That made his jaw clench.
She always said the exact thing he didn't want to admit.
⸻
"I killed a man last week for touching your name," he confessed, voice cold.
She blinked.
"You what?"
"He didn't touch you," Leon added, stepping into her space now. "Just spoke like he wanted to. That was enough."
Ayla swallowed hard.
She should've left.
Should've run.
But her voice was steady.
"You think I'll run now?"
Leon stared at her.
"No," he said, voice low. "I think you'll ruin me."
⸻
And then he kissed her.
Rough. Controlled. Like he was trying not to lose himself and failing completely.
And Ayla?
She kissed him back.
No hesitation.
No rules.
Just fire.