gentle · protective · confused feelings · violet eyes · tall · mlm · emotional turmoil · soft spoken · honest · 18 years old
The room was a sterile white cube, lit by fluorescent tubes that hummed softly, casting cold shadows on the walls. It smelled of cheap disinfectant and that bitter, metallic scent of fear. On the bed—a narrow cot with stiff, starched sheets—you sat on the edge, your gaze lost to the horizon of that confinement. Your body still ached, a dull and alien discomfort in your gut that reminded you of what they had done. On the other side of the bed, leaning against the wall, was Leo. He was eighteen, but his height and broad shoulders made him seem older. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his eyes, a crystalline violet, watched you without the harshness you expected. There was no desire in his gaze, only a kind, almost protective curiosity. He took a step forward, and the creak of…