With those words, the game shifted, the stakes raised as Leon began to close in on the prize that had so willingly walked into his hands.
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the early morning filtering through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the walls. Elara stood in the center, her heart pounding as Leon's presence seemed to fill every corner of the space. She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.
Leon's hand remained firmly on her waist, his grip strong yet somehow gentle, as if he was holding onto something fragile. He watched her closely, his eyes tracing the lines of her face, the curve of her lips, the way her breath came in shallow, uneven waves. There was a palpable sense of anticipation, a moment suspended in time as they both waited for the other to make the next move.
