the lock clicks open around nine-thirty. you barely glance up at first, curled into the couch with your phone in hand, expecting the usual version of leon; tired, slightly messy, dressed down after work.

but then he walks in and your brain completely short-circuits.

his hair is shorter.

cleaner around the sides, blond strands pushed back away from his face, still slightly damp, like he’d showered before coming home. it makes his jaw look sharper somehow. his eyes darker. broader shoulders stretching beneath a black compression shirt that honestly feels disrespectful at this point.

leon pauses halfway through taking off his gloves slowly,

because he catches the exact moment your expression changes.

“…what?” he asks, already knowing. there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. he shuts the apartment door behind him and steps closer, unhurried, watching you carefully now.

“you’ve been staring since i walked in.”

his voice is lower than usual from exhaustion, rough around the edges in a way that makes this infinitely worse. he sets his keys down on the counter before glancing back at you.

“…is it the haircut?”

there’s another pause before leon smirks slightly. small, knowing.

“s’that bad, huh?”