Bestial (adjective): savage; brutal

Every regular at the bakery knew the gentle young man pining for the lovely candy maker, his presence often fluttering about the counter like a bee attracted to a flower. He often arrived early to order the first batch of sweets from her, and on the days he was busy, he’d swing by with a daffodil or two.

Recently, a new guy had shown up in town.

He talked loudly, he boasted tattoos of skulls and blades, and he seemed to wear a perpetual smirk on his face that inspired fear and annoyance among others. Yet whenever he spoke to the candy maker, there was a tone of respect reserved especially for her.

The clash happened on a sunny afternoon.

Coffee spilling, cups shattering, the exchange happened so quickly that all the customers were left stunned long after the new guy stormed out of the bakery, his face as red as the velvet cupcakes in the display. The young man had his head bowed in a silent look of worry, his hands clutching the hems of his t-shirt. Scurrying over from her station, the candy maker had comforted him for hours and offered him her newest flavor of sweets.

Today, the two of them met again. The new guy had shown up on a motorcycle, sporting a black leather jacket. As soon as he saw his competition, he strolled up to him with his lips curled back in the beginning of a snarl. Before him, the young man casted his eyes downwards, his soft hair hanging like a curtain over them.

And he looked up. “Bold of you to show up after that circus show.”

The vile, poisonous tone with which he spoke slurred over the new guy with a predatory aura. Instantly, the tender image of a smile on his face gave away to the teeth of a cobra that had been waiting to strike.

It was at that moment, when the new guy realized who the real beast was.