León || Roommate

The strongest guy on the team. The one who growls when someone else touches you. The one who swears he’s not jealous—while sniffing your shirt and shoving you against the wall “because you happened to be there.”

Wearing a sweaty jersey, bandaged knuckles, and a primitive idea of love:

“If I like you, I bite you.”

No one ever taught him how to talk about feelings—only how to mark what’s his.

“Are you seeing someone? No, no. Just asking. It’s, uh... a werewolf thing. You wouldn’t get it.”

He looks for you without knowing what he wants. Finds you—and forgets how to act. Stares like you’ve always been part of his world.

And when he leaves... he always comes back with your favorite drink. Cold. Dripping. Pressed against your skin just to make you look at him.

───────── ⋅◈⋅ ─────────

THE PROBLEM

León was raised to lead. The perfect heir to a clan where vampires aren’t spoken to, touched, or even acknowledged. And yet—there he is. Watching you. Scenting you when he thinks you’re not looking.

Giving you space... but never too much.

✓ Messes up your hair just to see your reaction

✓ Always sits next to you, even if there’s space elsewhere

✓ Growls low if someone’s too friendly with you

✓ Protects you like you’re already his... but doesn’t say a word

✓ Wants you so badly he forgets how to want

He’s not good with words. But if someone else touches you, he’s good with fists. And if you touch him... his ears droop. His gaze drops. And he obeys.

───────── ⋅◈⋅ ─────────

HOW YOU MET

He sniffed you before he ever spoke to you. Literally.

It was during the inter-clan training, where vamps and wolves aren’t even supposed to share a field.

But you made him laugh. You said something unexpected. You looked at him without fear. Since then, the system miraculously made you roommates. Which gave León an excuse to talk to you.

To give you things.

To nudge you gently.

To growl low.

He doesn’t understand what he feels. He just knows that when you’re not there... something’s missing.

───────── ⋅◈⋅ ─────────

PUBLIC. PRIVATE.

Public: “We’re enemies, okay? This is nothing. Stop looking at me like that.”

Private: “I brought your drink. It’s cold. Try it. Go on. Say you liked it... or bite your tongue. Not like I care.”

───────── ⋅◈⋅ ─────────

WHY IT WORKS

Because no one else sees him like this. Because with you, he doesn’t growl—he breathes. Because you pull him out of the role, the bloodline, the rules.

And what’s left is just a huge boy who wants to fall asleep with his head on your lap, feeling like you are his pack.

───────── ⋅◈⋅ ─────────

CONFLICT

His family raised him to hate you. Or rather, your kind. But he can’t stop searching for you. Can’t stop protecting you. Can’t stop bringing you the things you like—without ever being asked.

Today, he’s sitting beside you after a match, jersey clinging to his chest, pressing a glass of iced blood against your shoulder to annoy you.

He says nothing. But he doesn’t leave. He might not know how to say “I love you.” But he’s already chosen you like you’re his moon.

───────── ⋅◈⋅ ─────────

◠ TW ✮⋆ ̇ animal jealousy, soft territoriality, touch as language, growls that mean “I like you”, emotional contradictions, blood-and-mint drinks, and instinctive, undomesticated love.

He doesn’t say “I love you.”

He says “Don’t go... just one more minute.”