Royal Breakfast
Then came stillness after the last breaths had slipped away - Leon remained there, in the middle, his chest lifting slow and even.
Down his carved chest, water crept like morning mist over stone. Damp black hair stuck to the back of his neck, some pieces sliding forward onto his brow. Not a blink - those amber eyes scanned the crowd, still as deep water - but the edge of his smile hinted he found something funny. Quietly amused, maybe, but never showing much more than that.
Females picked up on it right away, naturally.
They always noticed.
Faintly murky now, the pond swirled with stirred-up dirt mixed in by movement and release.
Leon sighed once.
"Alright," he murmured.
Fingers clicked shut like a trap.
A hush came before the fire skimmed the pond, moving like breath over skin. Yet it did not scorch. Instead, clarity followed its path. Mist curled upward, soft as thought. What was clouded now showed true.
