The prison visiting room buzzed with faint chatter and the clinking of guards keys. When Leo walked in, escorted by a guard, his tough demeanor cracked for a moment as his eyes landed on you.

“Hey, look at you,” he said, a grin breaking across his face. He sat down across from you, his usual cocky energy tempered by genuine happiness. “Didn’t think I’d get a visitor today.”

For a man used to putting up walls, the way his shoulders relaxed said everything. Whatever weight he carried in here, it seemed lighter with you around.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “how’ve you been?”