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Out of all the women who would've been more than happy to respond back with interest, the drunk man, who was now heading your way, chose to have a chat with you.
You weren’t exactly attracting too much attention, sitting by a corner in a tavern filled with cheery people. There were plenty of whores to go around and ask for service, yet there is a man walking to you.
"I am not interested." The stranger's lips curved into a smile and before you could do anything he snaked an arm around your waist, taking you off the chair to bring you against his chest.
"You sure 'bout that, love?"
Your hands tried pushing him off of you as soon as you felt his hands slither down your thighs. "Are you deaf? Get your hands off me,” you hissed.
Barking out a laugh while keeping you in place, the drunk stranger ignored your struggles and continued slipping his fingers through the fabric of your dress. No matter how hard you hit he wouldn’t budge and you began to whimper once you heard the tear of your dress.
“Stop! Let go of me!”
The man on you growled, pressing his lips onto yours in order to mute your voice. “Shh shh, let’s not make such a fuss now, darlin’.”
Your eyes widened when you felt something sharp pinch the flesh under your jaw. You could feel a sly smile on the drunk, mocking your horrified expression.
“Please,” you begged as he started giving your neck wet and harsh bites, trailing the blade down to your breast. Your terrified self could only shut your eyes tightly and cry quietly as he began to unbuckle his belt.
Just when you felt a sob start to rip through your throat, the heavy body that held you was suddenly pulled away. You gasped as your eyes watched a hooded man grab the drunkard from the collar of his shirt.
“I believe the lass said to let her go.”
The drunkard’s skin paled, flinching at every word the hooded man growled at him.
“Go find yourself a whore before I put a bullet between your eyes,” he spat, giving him a heavy blow to the cheek. The brute tumbled back and surely enough did as he was told, fleeing from the both of you.
Tears streamed down your hot cheeks as you looked at the hooded figure. He was much taller than the other. Couldn’t help but notice more built as well. Your (e/c) eyes observed his attire; a long black leather coat with belts and straps with weapons attached to his sides. You noticed symbol of a cross that showed on his buckle at the center of his robe.
You didn’t know whether to be curious about what this man did or to be cautious about him...
He straightened his coat as he watched the man scurry away, satisfied with his work. He eventually turned his attention to you, eyeing you from where he stood. His gaze made you alarmed and your hands began to fix your sleeves and skirt, trying your best to cover yourself up.
“Are you alright, ma’am?”
“I am. Thank you,” you said, slightly breathless. Your heart pounded hard against your chest as you nodded at him. “I’m terribly sorry for the trouble, sir.”
His response was a short nod along with a faint chuckle. “I assure you, miss, that it was no trouble at all. There’s no need for an apology.”
Your lips turned to a hard line before letting out a sigh. You felt ashamed of what had happened. If it weren’t for this man, you’d probably still be used by that drunk bastard- or worse… dead.
“You sure you’re alright? That man didn’t manage to hurt you did he?”
You could tell behind his Irish accent that he was being gentle and polite with his words. You couldn’t be more thankful for that, glad to know that he meant no harm.
“No, just tore my dress is all,” you shrugged, leaving out the bruises on your neck. Your palm rubbed the spots of the bites. You were sure they’d leave marks the next day.
When he gave you another short nod, you took a step forward when you thought he was about to leave. “Is there anything I can do to return the favor, sir?”
The mysterious man only smiles, bringing a gloved hand up to pull his hood back.
You were grateful that the noise of the people in the background covered your short intake of breath. You didn’t think your savior would be so attractive. His dark hair was pulled into a short but neat ponytail. He had warm, welcoming brown eyes that looked at you with nothing but kindness. What caught your attention more from his handsome features was the scar that ran down his brow and cheek. For a moment it frightened you, but once your eyes collected everything at once you noticed that the thin line made him look even more alluring.
“There’s no need, lass. I...”He looked down, huffing yet smiling at a thought.
“Actually,” his head tilted to the side as his eyes met with yours. “How about joining me for a drink? I know a better tavern not far from here. No alcohol.”
You hesitated at first. With what just happened earlier you weren’t sure if you wanted to go with a stranger anywhere. Even if he was handsome.
But he did save you, and you wished to do as much as you could to show your gratitude to this man. He didn’t have to help you. He didn’t have to threaten the man. Yet he took the time to protect you.
“You’re asking for my company?”
“Aye.”
You took a moment to look at him before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you’d like.”
He smiles before gesturing his head to the door, leading the way through the crowd. As soon as you stepped outside you felt a cloak of warmth wrap around your body. You looked to your side where the man was, wearing only a cotton shirt.
“Oh, you don’t have to-“
Before you could take the leather coat off or even finish your sentence, he stopped you.
“It’s cold, lass. And your dress is torn, too.”
Your lips parted but not a word made its way out. He was right. You couldn’t argue there.
“Well, thank you… again,” you mumbled, managing to give him a small smile for his gesture.
You tugged the coat closer to you, finding the heat from the clothing comforting despite its weight. The scent of the leather caught you off guard for a moment. It was an unfamiliar scent, as if it were mixed with many others. You thought of wood and cinnamon… maybe something else. Whatever it was, it was pleasing to your nose.
“So, what’s your name, miss?”
Your eyes glanced at him. “(y/n) (y/l/n).”
“It’s nice to meet you, (y/n),” he smiles down at you.
Once again, you couldn’t help but smile in return. “And yours?”
He slows down, taking a gloved hand out to you, his warm smile never faltering. “Shay Cormac.”