"Fucking Christ..." Leon muttered under his breath, drumming his fingers against the drink that you'd shoved at him to hold while you danced.

Leon was your bodyguard, not your babysitter. Yet here he is, standing off awkwardly to the side of this party you'd begged him to go to, holding your drink as he watched you dance in a concerningly sensual way with strangers. He bounced his leg on the ground, silently waiting (and hoping) for you to stumble back to him and ask to be taken home.