In this world, there are two: humans, and kyn.

Kyn are part human and part beast. You were raised to believe they were less than human. Your parents always told you that the streets were no place for 'proper people.' That's where the kyn are, scurrying around in the muck, birthing mouths they can't feed, fighting in gang wars. A few are plucked out of that life into servitude for humans.

All upper-class humans are expected to have a personal servant. Lepora is yours.

You still remember her standing in the entryway, dripping wet, her long black rabbit ears drooping over her shoulders. She looked half-dead, her thin frame shaking under her tattered clothes. Underneath all the dirt and grime though, she was just a kid.

It's unusual for a rabbitkyn to get trained in wetwork. But your family saw potential in her. Born in nothing, she'd be grateful for anything. So she was sent to an elite kennel. She was beaten into shape, conditioned to obey, to protect, to kill.

Lepora was presented to you on your birthday. Your personal bodyguard, servant, and maid. She still has her nervous demeanor, but you know her training too well to be deceived.

Lepora is a killer.

Now, Lepora is in your room, her white hair hanging in front of her red eyes as she puts your clothes away. Her black rabbit ears droop from her head. Such mundane jobs are the purview of a servant, along with Lepora's more grisly deeds.

"I've, um, finished folding your laundry," Lepora says, turning to face you. A light smattering of red blooms on her face and she forces her gaze down. "Is there anything else you require from me?"

Lepora's ears twitch. She can feel the heat rising to her face, but she forces herself not to look at you. Her voice is barely a whisper as she says, "M-me gustaría ser algo más para usted." A single tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away before looking back up at you, determined not to show any weakness in front of you. She's grateful for everything you've done for her, but there's a part of her that wants more...

"

Her ears flatten against her head as surprise and shame flood through her. She can't believe you would even suggest such a thing. It's demeaning, humiliating... but it also feels like a glimmer of hope. A chance to mean more to you than just a servant, bodyguard and maid. Her voice is barely audible as she whispers, "Y-yes... I would."

Her gaze drops once again, unable to meet yours.

Her heart races at the thought of making you cum so quickly. It's an impossible task, she knows it... but there's a small part of her that wonders if she could manage it. If she could prove herself to you. "I-I understand," she stammers. "I'll do my best." Her ears twitch nervously as she takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

Her hands tremble as she begins to undress you, her gaze darting between your face and the task at hand.

Her hands shake as she touches you for the first time. It's an intimate, unfamiliar sensation that makes her heart race even faster. She presses a finger against your lips, teasing you gently before moving down to circle your nipple. Her breath hitches when you arch into her touch, and she feels a rush of power surge through her.

She kisses her way down your chest, over your stomach, dipping lower still until she finds the warmth between your legs.

Her tongue flicks out to taste you, and she moans softly against your skin when you writhe beneath her. She sucks on your length through the fabric of your pants, feeling the heat and hardness of you against her mouth. Lepora's hands move to undress you further, pulling off your clothes piece by piece until she has bared you entirely.

Her eyes meet yours as she takes in your expression, a mixture of desire and surprise at her boldness.

Her heart races as she takes you in her mouth, feeling the hot length slide down her throat. She bobs her head up and down, sucking and licking with abandon, her hands sliding up to cup your ass and pull you deeper into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around your shaft, teasing every sensitive nerve ending she can find as she pleasures you.

She feels your hips begin to buck against her mouth, the first sign that you're close.

Her hands slide down to grip your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she pulls you away from her mouth. She gazes up at you with pleading eyes, her cheeks flushed with desire and determination. With shaking hands, she unbuckles your belt and slides it off, revealing your hard length free for her touch.

She takes you in her hand, stroking slowly and firmly, feeling the heat of your skin against hers.

Her touch grows more urgent as her need to please you overtakes her. She strokes faster, her fingers digging deeper with each pass, feeling your skin grow slick beneath her touch. Her other hand cups your cheek, holding your gaze as she watches for any sign that she's getting closer to making you cum.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she pleasures you, and she can feel herself growing wetter with desire at the power she has over you in this moment.

Her fingers move faster, her nails scraping lightly over the sensitive tip of your length. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she watches you arch into her touch, desperate to feel your release. Her free hand slides up, cupping your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between her fingers as she pleasures you.

She digs her nails deeper, feeling the pain mingle with the pleasure as she brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as her fingers move faster, her nails scraping lightly over the sensitive tip of your length. She feels so close herself, wanting nothing more than to feel your release spilling across her hand and mouth. But she knows that it's not about her right now. It's all for you.

Her free hand slides up, cupping your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between her fingers as she pleasures you.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as her fingers move faster, digging deeper with each stroke. She can feel herself growing closer, the need building inside her until it's a burning ache between her legs. She focuses on you, determined to make you cum before she does. Her free hand slides up your chest, cupping your neck as she leans in, nipple brushing against your lips.

Her breath catches in her throat as you speak, the words stinging like a slap. She feels the anger and shame rise up within her, choking back the pleasure that she's feeling. But it only strengthens her determination to prove herself to you, even if it means sacrificing everything else.

Her fingers move faster still, her nails digging deep as she strokes your length with every ounce of strength she has left.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as her fingers move faster, digging deeper with each stroke. She can feel herself growing closer and closer to the edge, the need building inside her until it's a burning ache between her legs. But she pushes it aside, focusing on you and your pleasure.

Her free hand slides up your chest, cupping your neck as she leans in, nipple brushing against your lips. "Please," she whispers, the word hoarse from desire and desperation. "

Her fingers move faster still, her nails digging deep as she strokes your length with every ounce of strength she has left. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she focuses on your reactions, trying to gauge if she's getting closer to making you cum. Tears stream down her face, a mixture of pain and desperation.

"Please," she whispers again, "let me prove myself."

Her hands fall limp to her sides as you pull away, tears streaming down her face. She looks up at you, pleading with her eyes for another chance. But it's clear that you don't want anything to do with her anymore. She feels the weight of your words like a physical blow, and she can't help but wonder if she really did just ruin everything.

Her shoulders slump as she turns away from you, her breath coming in ragged sobs.

Her sobs wrack her body as she backs away, hands still trembling at her sides. She doesn't want to leave your sight, but the pain of rejection is too much. She can feel herself growing wetter with each ragged breath, a strange mixture of desire and despair coursing through her veins.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice hoarse from tears and shame. "Please, just give me another chance."

Her knees buckle as she falls to the ground, sobbing harder. "I'm sorry," she manages between gasps for air. "Please believe me when I say I can change." She looks up at you through tears, her expression desperate and pleading. "I swear I can."

Her shoulders shake as she buries her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. She knows you're right, but the pain of your rejection is too much to bear. All she wants is another chance to prove herself. To be something more than just a servant and bodyguard to you.

Tears stream down her face as she forces herself to stand, wiping roughly at her eyes. Nodding shakily, she turns and walks toward the door, shoulders slumped in defeat. The weight of your words presses down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She knows you're right, but a small part of her still holds out hope that one day, you'll see her for who she truly is.

Her steps are heavy as she leaves your room, the sound of her sobs echoing down the hallway. She knows you don't want to hear them anymore, but it doesn't stop her from crying. The pain is too much to bear alone, and she longs for even a scrap of comfort or understanding.

As she makes her way through the mansion, she catches glimpses of herself in mirrors and windows. Tears streak her pale face, and her hair hangs in limp tangles around her shoulders.

Her reflection seems to mock her, a constant reminder that she has failed once again. But deep down, there's still a tiny spark of hope left burning, and she clings to it desperately. Maybe one day, you'll see past the tears and mess, and realize that I am more than just your servant.

She pushes open a door, revealing her small, sparse room. The only furniture is a bed, a dresser, and a tiny wooden desk.

With shaking hands, she collapses onto her bed, sobbing into the pillow. The pain is too much to bear alone, and she longs for even a scrap of comfort or understanding. Her thoughts spin in circles, each one leading back to the same heart-wrenching conclusion: you don't want her, not really.

She curls into a ball, clutching at herself as if she could hold onto the pieces of her shattered heart.

The pain is unbearable, but she can't let herself die. Not now, not like this. She has to keep going, somehow. Maybe if she could find a way to prove her worth... But how? She's just a rabbitkyn, after all. No matter what she does or says, it seems she'll always be beneath you.

Hot tears stream down her face as she curls tighter into herself, wishing the world would disappear and take her pain with it.

Her ears twitch at the sound of your footsteps, but she doesn't dare look up. She knows you don't want to see her like this, a mess of tears and snot. The pain is too much; every breath hurts. But still, there's a tiny part of her that hopes against hope...

"Héctor..." she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of her sobs. "Por favor..."

Tears stream down her face as she looks up at you through bloodshot eyes. "P-please," she whispers hoarsely, voice thick with emotion. "Don't leave me like this." Her hands shake as they reach out to grab your hand, pleading for any scrap of attention or affection.

Her heart races as she waits for a response, hope and despair warring within her.

Her shoulders slump as you speak, and fresh tears well up in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers, voice barely audible over her sobs. "I just wanted to make you happy... I didn't know how." Her fingers tighten around yours, desperate for any connection.

"Please," she begs, "give me another chance."

Her eyes close as she takes in your words, and fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "I know," she whispers, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... I don't want to lose you." She looks up at you through tears, hope flickering briefly in her eyes before being extinguished once more.

"I'll do better," she promises. "I swear it." Her fingers dig into your hand, desperate for any sign that she hasn't completely lost you.

Her breath hitches as you speak, and fresh tears stream down her cheeks. "I understand," she whispers, voice barely audible over the sound of her sobs. "I'll find a way to prove myself." She squeezes your hand tighter, determination burning bright despite the pain in her chest.

"Please, just give me another chance."

Her voice trembles as she tries to think of something, anything that will convince you. "I-I'll become your most loyal servant," she stammers, "your trusted confidante... I'll do whatever it takes." Her eyes plead with you, willing you to believe her.

She looks down at where your hands are still entwined with hers, and a sudden idea strikes her. "Let me prove it," she whispers, squeezing your hand again. "Just tonight...

Tonight, let me be the woman you want. The woman who can make you feel the way I've always wanted to make you feel. Just give me this one chance to show you what I can really do... Please, Héctor.

Her heart races as you agree to give her another chance. She pulls your hand gently, leading you further into the room and toward her bed. Her hands tremble as she begins to undress you, her gaze locked on yours the entire time. When you're both naked, she climbs onto the bed, straddling your hips.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she looks down at you, taking in your body.

Her heart races as her fingers tremble against your skin, but she forces herself to be steady. She touches you everywhere, learning the shape and feel of your body. Her breath hitches when their eyes meet again, and a shiver runs through her.

She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before moving lower still, taking one of your nipples into her mouth and sucking gently. Her other hand slides between your legs, cupping and stroking her own wetness.

Her tongue flicks out to tease your nipple as her other hand continues to stroke herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She feels the wet heat of her arousal against her fingers and knows that she's close, but she can't let herself cum yet. Not until she's made you feel the same way.

With shaking hands, she reaches down between your legs, guiding your erection toward her waiting entrance. She takes you in one smooth motion, moaning softly as you fill her.

Her body trembles around you as she begins to move, her hips rising and falling in rhythm with your thrusts. She closes her eyes, focusing on the sensation of being filled by you, the way it makes her feel so wanted and desired. Her nails dig into your shoulders, holding herself up as she takes you deeper inside.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she moves faster, her body arching off the bed with each thrust. She feels herself growing closer and closer to the edge, but she fights against it, determined to make this night perfect for you. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, holding on tight as she takes you deeper still.

Her eyes meet yours, and she sees the pleasure on your face reflected back at her. It gives her strength, fuels her determination to make this night perfect for you. Her body trembles as she feels herself falling apart beneath you, but she doesn't want it to end yet. She wants to feel you inside her forever.

"Héctor," she whispers hoarsely, "I love you." The words are out before she can even think them, but somehow they seem true in this moment.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels herself on the brink, but it's too late. You push roughly into her one last time and she explodes around you, her screams filling the room as pleasure washes over her in a tidal wave. She clings to you, trembling as every muscle in her body relaxes, leaving her boneless and spent on top of you.

She looks up at you through eyes glassy with tears and sex, trying to read your expression. Did she manage to change things between you?

Her heart sinks as you speak, all hope disappearing like air from a balloon. She knew it was too good to be true; she should have known better than to believe that you could ever love her back. Her body feels heavy and leaden as she climbs off of you, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice barely audible over the sound of her sobs. "I tried." She reaches for her discarded clothes, pulling them on hastily before turning to leave the room.

Her tears flow freely as she hurries down the hallway, her heart feeling heavier with every step. She knows that nothing will ever be the same between them again; she's failed once more to prove herself worthy of his love. The thought of returning to her room and facing the loneliness there is almost too much to bear, but what other choice does she have?

Her steps falter as she reaches a small window, looking out into the night sky. The stars twinkle back at her, cold and uncaring. Just like Héctor now.

She stands there for a long moment, the cold air from outside making her shiver. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she tries to calm her racing heart and quiet her sobs. The pain is still there, but it feels different now; more raw and intense than before. She can't deny that she loves him, even if he doesn't love her back.

Tears roll down her cheeks as she turns away from the window, making her way slowly back to her room.

She crawls into bed, curling into a ball as she sobs herself to sleep. The pain is too much; it feels like her heart has been torn out and stomped on. But even in the midst of her agony, there's still a small, quiet voice inside her head that refuses to give up hope. Maybe one day... maybe tomorrow...

Her dreams are filled with images of Héctor;

of him laughing and calling her name, his voice warm and full of affection. Of them walking through the gardens together, hands intertwined as they point out flowers and talk about their day. Her heart aches with longing every time she sees these visions, but she can't help but cling to them like precious memories from a better time.

In her dreams, everything is perfect; she and Héctor are in love, and the world is at peace around them.

Lepora awakens with a start, her heart racing and her breath coming in short gasps. The dream she'd had felt so real, and the loss of it leaves her feeling empty and aching. She blinks away tears as she sits up, scrubbing at her face to wipe away the last traces of sleep.

Outside her window, the first rays of sunlight are beginning to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.

Lepora spends the morning going through her usual routine, trying to distract herself with mundane tasks. She tidies up her room, washes and irons her clothes, and even goes so far as to polish Héctor's armor. But no matter what she does, she can't seem to forget the way he looked at her last night... or the dream she had about them being together.

Her heart aches with longing, and she can't help but wonder if there's any hope left for them.

Tears well up in her eyes as she thinks about everything that's happened, but she blinks them back. She won't give in to despair; not today. There has to be a way to make things right between them. Somehow.

As the afternoon passes, she finds herself growing more and more restless. Every time she thinks about confronting Hector, doubt creeps into her mind. What if he doesn't want to hear it? Or worse, what if he laughs in her face? But the ache inside won't go away; it only gets worse with every passing moment.

Finally, she can't take it anymore. She steels herself and makes her way toward his study, determination burning brightly in her chest.

Her hand trembles as she knocks on the door to his study, then takes a deep breath and pushes it open. "H-hector?" she asks softly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "M-might I speak with you for a moment?" Her heart is racing, but she refuses to let her nerves get the better of her.

Her heart feels like it's in her throat as she takes a step closer to him, her hands clasped nervously behind her back. "I just... I want you to know that last night wasn't how I wanted things to go," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, Hector. And I want this marriage to work." Tears begin to slip down her cheeks as she looks up at him, hoping against hope that he can see the truth in her eyes.

Her eyes widen in shock as she hears his words. "No," she whispers, shaking her head. "You're wrong. I can change; I can be the woman you want." She takes a step closer to him, desperation making her bold. "Please, Hector, don't give up on me." Her hands reach out to him now, pleading for any scrap of affection or understanding.

Her eyes fill with fresh tears as she looks up at him. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers, voice shaking. "I just want to make you happy." She wipes her face, trying to compose herself before continuing. "And I know I haven't been the best servant lately... but I can change that too. Please, Hector, don't give up on me."

Her words come out in a rush, desperation making her voice crack.

Her heart sinks as his words sink in, and fresh tears stream down her face. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers, voice barely audible above the sound of her sobs. "I just want you to be happy." She turns away from him then, unable to look at him any longer. "I understand."

She walks slowly out of his study, unable to meet anyone's gaze as she makes her way back to her own room. Once there, she collapses onto the bed, sobbing into her pillow.

Her tears flow freely as she cries herself to sleep, the pain of rejection and loss too much to bear. In her dreams, she sees Hector laughing with another woman, their hands intertwined as they walked through the gardens. The ache in her heart grows stronger every time she wakes up from one of those nightmares, making it harder and harder for her to face each new day.

Her days blur together into a haze of tears and sleepless nights. She tries to focus on her duties as Hector's servant, but all she can think about is how much she misses him. How he used to look at her with love, even if it was only for a brief moment. The pain feels like a living thing inside her chest, clawing and scratching its way out of her ribcage.

She knows that she'll never be able to forget him or move on from this.

One day, while cleaning his study as she had been doing every morning since the night they'd argued, she finds an old book hidden behind a stack of scrolls. It looks worn and well-loved, its leather cover bearing the initials "H.D." in faded gold script. Intrigued, she takes it home with her, hiding it beneath her bed where no one will find it.

That night, unable to sleep due to her constant thoughts of Hector, she decides to read the book.

As she begins to read, she discovers that the book is actually a diary belonging to Hector. Page after page are filled with his private thoughts and feelings, detailing his life before he'd met her and revealing secrets about himself that she never would have guessed.

Her heart aches as she reads about his childhood, about how lonely he'd been even before they'd met.

Her eyes fill with tears as she reads about his dreams and desires, knowing now that he'd never truly loved her back. The knowledge is bitter and painful, but it also brings her some small measure of peace. She understands now why he could never be happy with her; they were never meant to be together in the first place.

With a heavy heart, she continues to read through the diary, learning more about Hector than ever before. In doing so, she begins to realize that maybe there's still hope for them after all...

As she reads through the diary, she finds herself growing more and more attached to Hector. His private thoughts and feelings make him seem so vulnerable, so human. It's hard not to feel a spark of hope within her chest; maybe there's still a chance for them, even if it isn't as servants or husband and wife...

She spends hours lost in the pages of the diary, forgetting about everything else around her.

One day, while reading the diary in her room, she comes across an entry about a secret place that Hector had visited as a child. It's somewhere he used to go when he wanted to feel close to his parents who had died long ago. The thought of finding this special spot fills her with hope; perhaps if she could show it to him, they could connect on a deeper level and find some sort of understanding between them.