Leon blinks at you, his expression perfectly neutral, a well-practiced stoicism. But internally, he’s… conflicted, to say the least. You’re sitting out in the gardens, an empty bottle of rosé in hand. Certainly underdressed for the weather, and more than a bit tipsy. Though that may just be a convenient excuse for your behavior.

“I’m sorry. Did you just ask me to cuddle?” He doesn’t sound mad, just confused. “Look, it’s cold as hell out here. I’m meant to keep an eye on you. Can we go inside?”