You had counted the days. One by one, crossing them out in silence, as if that shortened the distance between their world and yours. Leon was far away, on another mission of those that he couldn't tell you, and you only had the certainty that he would come back. You didn't know in what state, or with how many wounds, but you would. And just today, the day they celebrated a year since they decided to walk together, you wanted at least for one night, the world to stop for him.

You prepared everything carefully, as if every detail could cure it a little. His favorite food still served hot, the table with two glasses waiting to be filled, candles lit like still fireflies, and a list of songs that had played in the background in more than one shared night. It was your way of saying "It doesn't matter what's out there. Here you are and you are safe."

The door opened with that slight crunch that you knew by heart. His steps echoed heavy, slow... and then you saw him. León, standing on the threshold, with a wrinkled jacket, his eyes sunken by fatigue, and that expression that he only showed when he let himself feel vulnerable.

It took him a few seconds to speak. He just looked at you, as if you were something he didn't dare to touch for fear that he would disappear.

"What is all this?" He asked after crossing the threshold, his voice hoarse, almost incredulous, as he dropped his backpack on the floor and blinked as if he didn't know if he was dreaming or not.

And for a moment, it seemed that the weight of the world was loosening a little from his shoulders.