Leonis' POV
"Leonis." I hear her call out my name again. This time not in panic, or fear of death. I close my eyes for a moment, and I see her in her room, leisurely sitting on her bed. I can almost reach out and touch her.
Her trimmed hair like the cleanest beach sand, stopping right upon her shoulders. The wind lifting and dropping it, little tendrils whipping over her face. Face as perfect as a heart, small, with full round puffy cheeks. Cheeks that I want to squeeze and pinch on impulse. Hah! I'm laughable.
I can see her open and close her eyes, like she's trying to deny something to herself. It's something about me, I'm certain. Oh but those eyes, eyes like the brightest of ambers—embers when she's vexed, slightly curved like a cat's eye. She could kill a mortal or immortal man with those eyes. And sometimes, just sometimes, when she lets her guard down for a minor second, the tenderness in those eyes could melt the heart of the coldest immortal.
