Chapter Text
"You're scaring them off," You huff, slouching back in your seat.
"That's kind of my point." Leon replies matter-of-factly.
"Your point is to keep me safe from any kidnappers or psycho murderers," You glare at him, "Not to scare off guys who want to talk to me."
When he only replies with a shrug of his shoulders, you roll your eyes and concentrate back at the drink in your hand.
The bar was quite busy today, music blaring in the background as the noise of chatter filled the air. If you craned your head far enough from your booth, you could spot the pool table that was currently hounded by a group of guys, pool sticks in one hand, and a beer in the other. Your eyes strayed over to the girls that were lounging near them, a sigh escaping your lips.
What else were college students supposed to do at Friday night anyways except to drink away their stress?
Your eyes fall back to the brunette man that was now walking away, redirected by Leon's presence from where he was clearly coming to talk to you. You bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, the condensation on your glass slipping down into your fingers.
Leon doesn't even sit. Oh no, he stands there to the side with some distance between you two like a guard dog. All sharp angles, harsh eyes, and shoulders so broad that he's nearly always blocking light from reaching you.
"You could just sit, you know," You scoff not trying to hide the irritation in your tone.
Leon finally looks at you, his icy gaze sending an electric shock down your spine. There's no softness behind the look he's giving you; a glare if you squint. And you've been at the receiving end of it many times now, scaring you once but now its just boring you.
You take a sip of your drink. "Okay, if you think that look is gonna shut me up, then you have another thing coming."
You're not sure if Leon has anything to say in reply to that because you lift your eyes to see Mia walk back to you from the bar with a shy look in her eyes. You grin, knowing what she's going to say, witnessing her talking to Johnny, chuckling to yourself at the way they were standing close to each, flirty touches and all.
"So," Mia giggles airily when she comes to a stop, "I um, I think me and Johnny are going to head out now."
Her giggling is infectious because it has you caught in it too. "Yeah, no shit. He looks like a man in love with the way he has his eyes on you."
Mia's eyes flit to Leon for a second, who is determinedly looking away. "You'll be okay?"
You grin and wave her off. "Absolutely. Now go, have fun. And be safe!"
She fixes you with a mortified look before she's tumbling out of the pub, hands locked with Johnny.
You sigh, albeit a little pathetically unable to help yourself from looking at Leon. You thank god that he's not suited up but instead in a pair of washed-out jeans, a black tee, and a leather jacket that's hiding the way the shirt stretches across the expanse of his chest.
You still remember the first day he had shown up to your dorm, clad in a suit and sunglasses, dressed up exactly like the men that would surround your father when you would visit home.
You had slammed shut the door in his face, furious as you had called up your dad and told him how this was going to be social murder. But it was pointless, and Leon was to keep you company from now on.
One kidnapping attempt and suddenly everyone loses their mind.
With yet another sigh, you clamber out of the booth, straightening up to see Leon beginning to move as well. "Okay woah," You hold your hands up, "I'm just going to the ladies room."
"Let me go-"
"And what? Camp out in one of the stalls?"
"At least let me check."
"Leon, no one's going to jump me in the bathroom."
He fixes you with a knowing stare, and you feel your cheeks get warm. "And I won't try to ditch you this time."
With that, he relents and steps away, allowing you to walk to the small hallway in the back. It's mostly empty, smiling politely at the girl who's exiting out of the bathroom as you take your place in front of the mirror.
You're not sure why you're in here, staring at your reflection in the mirror, only the sound of the running faucet keeping you company. Leon's presence always puts you on the edge. Not uncomfortable, no. In fact the gnawing sensation in the pit of your stomach that was there since your kidnapping attempt has long since quieted after Leon's arrival.
But he does something to you. You just can't tell what it is, frustrating you to no ends.
After splashing your face with cold water, you step back out, stomach dropping slightly when you see a man standing with his back against the wall next to the men's room door. He seems drunk, his posture a bit folded up on himself, shoulders slouched and eyes slow.
You don't spare him a glance, hoping to quietly evade him and go back to your booth. But it doesn't work, doesn't help because as soon as you're in front of him, you feel rough fingers encircle your wrist, nearly yanking you back.
You let out a gasp, a mixture of surprise and pain, hand jerking out to stabilize yourself but finding nothing causing you to stumble. Your misbalanced state allows the man to slither his free hand around your waist.
"You're a pretty doll," He sneers. And you almost choke, the smell of alcohol hitting you like a barrage.
"Let me go, please," You try, voice coming out weak and immediately hating yourself for it.
His fingertips are drilling into your skin through your shirt, pain beginning to fester. How long will it take to scrub him off from your skin? You struggle against him, breathe hitching in your throat as you're unable to release yourself from his grip his hand begins to wander down.
But just before he's able to move his hand down from the small of your back to your hips, there is movement. An exclamation of pain and a loud crashing noise.
You blink.
You don't see the drunk man anymore, his grip on you now vanished. Your vision is now flooded with Leon's back, his blonde hair glowing underneath the overhead light. Your stomach tightens. You didn't even see or hear Leon approach, unbelieving how he had gotten that man off of you.
Leon makes forward towards the man who's sprawled on the floor, but your hand around his bicep stops him. He turns around to see your eyes fixed on him, blown wide in worry. You shake your head, "He's just drunk."
His eyes flit across your face, eyebrows scrunched together and nursing your bottom lip between your teeth. You watch the storm brewing in his eyes dissipate, his jaw relaxing, replaced by something so warm and gentle that you look away, unconvinced of being worthy enough to be looked at like that.
His soft fingers curl around your chin, pulling you back to him, "You okay?"
You let out a hum of affirmation, feeling bare under his gaze, the scent of aftershave nearly knocking you off your feet as you suppressed a shiver.
All you can manage now is a whisper, "Take me home Leon."