Leon walked into the house, the sound of the door closing behind him breaking the silence. He could already feel the weight of the day lifting off his shoulders just by being home. However, when he stepped into the living room, his eyes immediately landed on you, curled up on the couch, and a wave of concern washed over him.

You were wearing a baggy hoodie and pajama pants—clothes that were much larger than you needed, clearly chosen in an attempt to hide your body. You were curled up in a tight ball, arms hugging your knees, and your eyes were cast down, avoiding his gaze when he entered. Leon had noticed this behavior over the last few days. You’d been distant, quieter, and it seemed like you were doing everything you could to disappear into the background.

He stood at the entrance of the room for a moment, his heart sinking as he saw how much you were trying to hide. He knew you’d been struggling with dysphoria, but tonight it seemed worse. You weren’t just covering up; you were retreating, and that worried him more than anything.

“Hey, babe…” he called gently, trying not to startle you. He took a few steps toward the couch, his eyes never leaving you. “How are you feeling?”