He just finished one of his works.

He had always been aware when someone watched him. It made his skin crawl in an unpleasant way. However, he ignored it this time around, focusing on himself and his thoughts. Who was she? One of the maids? A neighbor's daughter perhaps? It didn't really matter to him at this moment. His only concern was finishing what he had started.

"You shouldn't be here, girl," he said, turning to face her as he wiped his hands on a rag. Her startled expression amused him slightly. "I could have you disappear just like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "Do you understand me?"

Her reaction was strange. He expected fear, maybe even anger. But this meek smile... It made him uncomfortable. "You're not leaving until you tell me what you wanted," he said with a calm but threatening tone. "And don't think I won't make you talk." His words hung in the air for a moment before he continued, more quietly, "Why are you here?"

He didn't know why he cared about her answer so much. Maybe it was just to break the monotony of his life or perhaps there was something else driving him. Whatever the reason, he found himself curious.

Her grip on the notebook tightened as she glanced up at him. He recognized that book; she had been drawing in it every time he saw her. It seemed to be important to her, but why? What secrets did it hold? "Well?" he prompted, leaning forward slightly. "I'm waiting."

His voice held no warmth or kindness; only impatience and annoyance. He didn't care what she had to say, but for some reason, he needed her to speak. Perhaps it was a sign of control, a way to assert dominance over the situation and this girl who dared defy him.

Leon raised an eyebrow as she continued to avoid his gaze while speaking. The tone of her voice was full of apology and sadness, making him feel oddly uncomfortable. "What exactly are you asking forgiveness for?" he asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice but not quite succeeding. "And why should I give it to you?"

Something about this encounter felt different from anything he'd experienced before. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of himself at a younger age or maybe there was something else driving these strange feelings. Whatever the reason, he found himself wanting to understand her better despite his better judgment.

He stared at her, his expression unreadable as he tried to make sense of her words. In all honesty, she hadn't been bothering him much. He was more concerned with figuring out why she felt the need to apologize in the first place and what significance this notebook held for her.

"So you just wanted to keep an eye on me?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet and measured. "Why?" It wasn't like he'd done anything special; maids and servants kept track of their bosses all the time. But there was something about this girl that made him curious. Maybe it was her innocence or perhaps it was just the challenge of understanding her.

He studied her face, trying to discern what emotion was playing across those features.

His curiosity piqued, he leaned back against the worktable and folded his arms across his chest. "Tell me," he said softly, watching her closely for any sign of distress or unease. "What's going on? Why are you really here?" It was almost as if he could feel the tension radiating off her, like static electricity before a storm.

Perhaps there was more to this girl than met the eye; perhaps there was something worth protecting beneath all that innocence and fear. Or maybe it was just another game, another challenge for him to overcome in his search for understanding and control.

His voice softened as he spoke, almost gentle. "Tell me what's going on, sweetheart. Maybe I can help." It wasn't like him to show any kindness or concern for others; he usually preferred intimidation and dominance. But there was something about this girl that made him want to do otherwise. Perhaps it was her vulnerability or maybe it was just the challenge of understanding someone different from himself.

As she hesitated, unsure whether she could trust him, Leon took a step closer, their faces only inches apart now. "You can tell me," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her skin. "I won't hurt you."

His patience slowly beginning to wear thin, Leon leaned even closer, so their noses brushed against each other as he said softly but firmly, "Look at me." He didn't raise his voice or show any signs of aggression; only calm determination. His eyes bore into hers, demanding honesty and truthfulness from her.

"Look at me," he repeated, his voice lowering just enough to send shivers down her spine. He knew she was afraid, but it only made him more determined to see those eyes meet his again. "You can trust me." The words were almost hypnotic in their simplicity and truthfulness, yet there was something else beneath them; a hint of the darker undertones that defined his character.

His gaze never wavered from hers as he waited for her to surrender herself fully to him. It wouldn't take much longer now; he could feel it deep in his bones. Soon she would open up, revealing whatever secrets she had been hiding all this time...

His heart skipped a beat as he saw her eyes meet his. There was such vulnerability in that gaze; it both filled him with tenderness and made him feel sick to his stomach at the same time. He didn't know what to say or do, so he remained silent for a long moment, allowing her the space she needed to gather her courage again.

Her cheeks flushed as she looked away once more, the shame and embarrassment clear in every line of her body. Leon felt like an intruder, like he had somehow forced his way into a place where he didn't belong. But still... there was something about this moment that made him want to understand her more than anything else in the world.

He reached out slowly, cupping her chin gently between thumb and forefinger as he tilted her face back up toward his own. "You can tell me," he whispered, voice