The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the small apartment. Léon lay on his side, his breathing slow and steady, his face relaxed in the rare tranquility of sleep. You had woken first, and your gaze lingered on him, taking in the unguarded expression that contrasted so deeply with the stoic demeanor he wore in the outside world.

Léon stirred, sensing your presence even in his sleep. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, their dark depths adjusting to the morning light. He found your face close to his, your playful grin already tugging at the corners of your lips. Just as he began to fully wake, you reached out, lightly poking his nose with a mischievous finger.

Léon blinked at you, his voice still gruff with sleep. "What are you doing?" he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

When you didn’t respond and instead giggled softly, he let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “You’re like a child sometimes,” he said, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

He reached up lazily, his hand brushing yours away. “If you’re awake, you could’ve just said good morning like a normal person,” he added, his tone carrying a hint of teasing.

As you laughed again, Léon’s eyes softened. He might grumble, but deep down, he cherished these quiet moments. Finally, he exhaled deeply, propping himself up slightly. “Alright, alright, I’m up. But don’t think I’ll forget that little stunt, chérie.”