The Protector

Queen of Sunshine

Summary/Meriam discusses the first time Leonard protects her from danger.

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I never understood why Leonard felt the need to protect me, to use his own body as a shield, to fend off against any physical attack, any mental or verbal blow before it reached me. It always rendered me speechless, it always made me immobile to watch him turn into a stony weapon. He would dive headfirst into the fray for me, tearing, punching, kicking, and thrashing at the nearest foe. He'd throw his morals away for me without any apprehension and damn if he was pressed under the weighty mental pressure of defeat, he'd loosen himself and die for me. That loyalty, that truthful promise to guard me from any perilous situation I managed to get myself knee-deep into, was overwhelming to me.

When I first met Leonard, I thought of him as the desirable bad boy who didn't take an interest in donnish girls like me. Well, when I had walked home that day, my hair was soaked with brackish rainwater, and my lashes too full of pearled water droplets, I hadn't expected him to come. I had happened to be traipsing through a dark alleyway, the kind you'd expect to see in old horror movies or in those movies where the female lead gets raped by a bunch of thugs. I almost ended up as a corpse randomly stuffed into the drainage pipes of the sewer systems. Some shady characters happened upon me in the dark, the outline of switch-blades and crowbars gleamed menacingly, as lightning cut into my line of vision sharply. I stopped, perusing through the heavy sheets of rain before my Mary Jane's (curse them) slipped on a random tile and I cried out.

I remembered how shrill and weak my voice sounded. I distinctly remember the sound of multiple footfalls assaulting my ears before one boy came down upon me with a crowbar in his tight-knuckled hand. I remember thinking how absolutely foolish I was for taking such a dreary looking shortcut on my way home. I felt his putrid breath, a mixture of warm ketchup and rotten food, brush against my nose in infinite waves. I held my breath, counting to ten for the second time in my pre-adolescence stage of life, and then I thrashed about. My pink knees bumped against the lanky boy's ankles before he pinned me down with his legs on either side of my thighs. My tears tasted like saltwater and I licked my cracked lips in anticipation for the worst, that was before I heard another group of footsteps. At this point I felt as if my innocence would be ripped away from me.

I felt as if my short-lived time spent back at home playing dress-up, having teatime with my five-year-old bears, and stuff like that would be forcefully taken from me. I tried to close my legs but the boy shoved his cold clammy hand against my goose bump-ridden thigh and I felt his narrow veins against my smooth patch of skin. A sharp clap of thunder danced in my ears before I felt blood splatter on my skirt and I instinctively grabbed a handful of my skirt and let out a muffled cry of horror.

The boy that had started to proceed with his forceful ministrations on me was dead. A bullet was lodged in his skull and I was staring down at the nose of a smoking barrel. Panic swelled up in my chest, bile swam around in my throat, and I had to stumble toward a garbage can and let my vomit stream out there. My stomach felt terribly empty and I had no desire to really see what was taking place. All I knew was that I had been seconds away from being raped and killed and now people were helping me?

My poor heart was palpitating so fast I felt like my chest was going to implode in a matter of seconds. I heard bones chip away, saw red splatter on the washed-out brick walls. I convinced myself that it was thick paint, until I smelled the metallic iron scent. My black hair was soon caked with blood and I was pulled back roughly by a toned arm, muscles rippling through the person's golden skin, and then I heard a bullet rip through the person's clothing and tear through their delicate flesh. My breath hitched in my throat, a ball of air swirling on my tongue, before I saw a pair of greenish-orange eyes stare back at me.

My world was a dreamy haze as I heard people groaning in pain and I saw those sickening boys being kicked in the groin and beaten to literal bloody pulps. It was Leonard. I recognized my rescuer at last but I couldn't make out what he was mouthing out to me with those kissable lips of his. My face flushed as I scrambled behind the wall he had directed me to and I felt a surge of relief and a simultaneous wave of terror as I heard more gunshots ring in the air.

The ground was soon littered with bullet shells and dismembered body parts. Recollecting that image now is a painful and hard process for me even today, but somehow back then I managed to walk through the mass of corpses. My goose-flesh was sensitive to the touch and Leonard placed a tentative yet warm gloved hand on my small shoulder.

"You all right?" He asked amidst the threatening roar of motorcycles and I blinked against the multiple bright flash of headlights.

"Y-yeah, t-thanks." I stuttered, trying to scrub furiously at some speckles of blood that was a large contrast against my pastel blue pencil skirt. Leonard smirked at me and took my small-boned hand in his large one. I felt warmth spreading like water throughout my skin and I relaxed, trying to focus on the feel of his warmth. Yet, I reminded myself, he slaughtered five, no six people single-handedly just now for me. I saw gashes on his once flawless chest and his nipple barely escaped the tearing of flesh from a nasty cut that stretched to his abdomen. His dark baggy jeans were torn in several places, displaying hairy legs that were well toned, and I gulped in half-shock and half-embarrassment.

To say, that I was a bumbling fidgeting idiot was an understatement. I couldn't escape the realization that my schoolgirl crush, the object of my fantasies, was now in my eyes, a murderer. Oh sure, you could very well make a tirade with me by saying that he practically defended me against those men. However I still knew from my own experiences there, that he had no real reason to be there armed to the teeth. Leonard frightened me and he was still alluring in all of his high physical prowess. In fact this might sound odd, but what he did just then, made him all the more attractive to me.

"No problem. Hey, if anyone bothers you again, you let me know." He flashed me a smile and we walked back to my quiet home, on my quiet street, in my quiet neighborhood. His hand twitched as he hesitated before gently tugging away from me. My fingers also twitched at the sudden coldness that replaced the warmth that had once resided in them. I licked my lips again and I sucked in air, feet digging into the ground, as my heart leapt back into my chest. I could feel my breath fluttering out of my parted lips and Leonard leaned in close to me, his black leather jacket with all of its gleaming silver zippers and chains, caught my eyes.

He brushed his soft lips against my lobe in an almost longing way, his bottom lip lingering over my ear before he gently nipped at the shell of my ear. I gasped, eyes widening at the fact that I hadn't instinctively pulled away, and my lungs burned as I slowly let air out of my body. His fingers intertwined with mine one last time. This act was a physical proof to how we were entwined with each other already. A desire that lived in us both came out and Leonard and I fought to tear us away from another. His thumb lightly grazed over the patch of skin between my right thumb and my forefinger. My whole body shivered at that slight bit of contact and then he left in a silent way. I barely heard his footfalls before I found my keys in my purse, slipped them into the lock of one of my glass double-doors, and let myself in.

From then on, Leonard protected me from harm and I tried on more than one occasion to do the same. Neither of us protested because we were destined for one another and we both secretly knew it.

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