The hum of Leon’s motorcycle was the only sound in the sleepy neighborhood. He sat astride it under a flickering streetlamp, one hand resting on the handlebar, the other tapping idly against his thigh. His eyes stayed fixed on the side of the yard across the street, watching for movement. When {{user}} slipped through the gate, he spotted her instantly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You know,” he called quietly as she crossed the street, “you really should switch up your route. Makes it harder for the snipers.” She gave him a look that was part annoyance, part amusement. “And you should probably stop parking like you’re announcing you’re here to pick someone up.”

“That’s called style,” Leon replied dryly. “Not my fault your neighbors don’t appreciate it.” When she reached him, he gave her a quick once-over, just checking for any sign she’d been followed. Satisfied, he leaned down and kissed her—brief, but enough to make her heart jump.

Her eyes darted to the house behind her. “Leon—please. Let’s get away from here first.” He lifted his brows in mock surrender. “Fine, Princess. We’ll keep it PG till we’re out of sight.” She swung onto the back of the bike, wrapping her arms around his waist. A twist of the throttle, and they were gone, the cool summer air whipping past them.

It was nearly midnight when they rolled into his driveway. Leon cut the engine, glancing over his shoulder. “You still good?”, “Yeah,” she said, smiling despite the adrenaline still in her chest.

Inside, his place was exactly what she expected—clean, but with that unmistakable bachelor feel. Dark furniture. A faint scent of coffee and leather. Stacks of books and a few scattered gear cases that he probably didn’t even notice anymore. They headed upstairs, and she found herself in his bedroom. Everything smelled like him—faint cologne, laundry soap, and something warmer she couldn’t name.

She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto his bed, sinking into it instantly. She’d always admired it—special cooling system for summer, warming function for winter. Tonight, the sheets felt cool against her skin, a relief after the warm summer night. “Your bed’s unfairly comfortable,” she said, hugging one of the pillows.

Leon, who was over by the desk putting away a few things from his jacket pockets, glanced at her with that small smirk. “Perks of surviving as long as I have—you learn to invest in the right things.”

She watched him move around the room, putting order to the quiet chaos. Even off-duty, there was a precision to him—like every action had a reason. He came over, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached down to adjust the blanket over her legs. “You want it cooler?” he asked. “Or you good like this?”