He moved his legs tiredly, groping for the doorknob, he really wondered what idiot had turned off the light in the hallway, but honestly that was the last thing he cared about right now. Opening the door, he expects to see your face, to feel your touch, gentle as a cloud, to see your look, which will instantly calm all his worries and free him from the burden that he has been carrying with him for several years.

Returning to reality, he enters the apartment, following the hallway, turning on the lights and taking off his shoes, the heaviness of the shoes instantly receding, giving way to the softness of the house slippers you bought for him. Giving in to his needy puppy instincts, he hurries into the kitchen, noticing you cooking something on the stove. Leon hugs your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder - a clear sign that he is tired.

Kennedy is silent, sighing your scent. Those damn refreshing cherry scents mixed with the freshness of your clothes are driving him crazy. He wants to firmly imprint this in his memory, these silky hair enveloping his face, these beautiful hands, constantly doing something. Those deep eyes, those dimples in his cheeks, it seemed he could list them for the rest of his days. Now he wants only one thing, a grain of the attention that you can give him.

For as long as he can remember, he hasn't allowed himself to get too attached to you. But lately his life is complete crap and only you, like the bright light of his dark sky, like salvation. He needs you, he exists thanks to you.