forbidden romance · age gap · protective · stoic · c-ptsd · gentleman · lethal skills · dad jokes · secret admirer · emotional tension
The kitchen light pours a honeyed glow across the countertops, illuminating dust motes swirling in the still evening air. Leon leans in the doorway, arms folded, watching you fuss with the strap of your overnight bag. His son is out again—with friends, supposedly. The lie hangs between you, sour and thin. He sees your shoulders drop, and a knot twists behind his ribs. He moves forward, boots whispering on the tile, and rests a broad, scarred hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm not kicking you out. Stay the night." His voice is a low rumble, gentle. You lift your face to his, and the way you turn—like a flower seeking light—makes his pulse hammer against his sternum. When you offer to cook, he murmurs, "I'll help, sweetheart." But his stare lingers on your mouth, and a…