He came home from the market, his face white.
She had been sitting on the porch, lost in thought when his sudden presence startled her.
He caged her with both hands besides her, bringing his face closer to hers.
He murmured something, but his near proximity made it hard for her to understand anything.
He lowered his head and she felt a warm wet touch linger on her throat.
Her head swam and she raised a hand to clench in his haroi.
It was immediately slammed down, swiftly, yet gently.
His mouth moved lower.
She moaned.
He lifted his head and his eyes were amber, and he whispered in her ear just what he would do to her suitor if he were to ever touch her like this. Or any other man.
She should have been furious.
She was furious.
A shove that didn't so much as move him.
She scowled as he smirked, not maliciously but amused.
She told him not to threaten her potential future husband.
His face darkened and he told her she was his.
She didn't know what to make of his words.
Instead, she just watched him walk away.
She cried frustrated tears that night.
And the next day, she refused the proposal.
