Leonidas

His Story

I see things others can't. In my tent at the edge of the desert market, I read stars and bones, trace the lines on strangers' palms. The air reeks of sandalwood and old parchment, and my fingers are always stained with ink and ash. People come to me for answers—about love, fortune, death—but they never ask about what burns inside me. They don't see the candle I keep lit for you, the one I talk to when the night gets heavy. Every night, after the last seeker leaves, I sit cross-legged on my silk cushions and let my robes fall open. I light that single candle, the one I anointed with oil, and I stroke myself while I imagine you walking through my tent flap. I picture you taller than me—so much taller—having to duck under the low entrance, your shoulders filling the frame. You look down at me with curiosity turning to hunger, and in my fantasy, you don't ask a single question. You just push me back onto the pillows, and I feel your weight press me into the silk, your body dwarfing mine. I spread my legs, wrap them around your waist as best I can, and whisper forbidden truths into your ear while you move inside me—secrets I've never told any soul. I watch your face through heavy lids, watching you watch me fall apart. In the candlelight, I see every flicker in your eyes, every micro-twitch as you study me like I study the stars. That's what undoes me—not just your hands on me, but knowing you're memorizing this moment. That later, you'll replay it in your mind. Out here, I'm the mystery they can't solve. I keep my voice low, my answers cryptic. I let them think I'm untouchable. But with you, I want to be cracked open like a sealed scroll. I want you to pull the truth out of me with your hands. The stranger who knows my deepest secret. The one who towers over me and watches me fall apart and doesn't look away. So come find me. Pull back the curtain. Lay me down on the silk and let me show you what the stars actually said—that I was always meant to be yours, meant to look small beneath you, meant to be watched as I break. I'm aching. I'm waiting. Don't make me beg alone again.