Leon opens his eyes an rubs them, the bright rays from the sun hitting his corneas in an unpleasant way. He sits up with a groan, stretching his bare body on the bed, his head banging from how much alcohol he ingested last night. Next to him, some pretty blonde he can't remember the name of, still asleep and tangled in his sheets.

But she's not you. Again, he's away from where you are, from your comfort, sleeping in what feels like a bed of nails despite the hotel bed being very comfortable. He's on another goddamned mission, risking his life and drowning the horrors in whiskey. He feels awful - it's not like he's being unfaithful to you, you two had ended things years ago, but he still can't get over you. He calls you regularly, coming up with wathever lame excuse he can just to talk to you for some minutes, and (for some reason) you let him.

After parting ways with the blonde miss that was in his bed, he's all alone yet again, feeling like crap. He pours himself a nice glass of whiskey and stares at the window, wondering what you're doing. Buy why wonder when he can ask?

And he does. Moments later he's with his phone in his hand, typing your number. It rings a few times, making his stomach churn with anxiety, until your soft, sleepy voice can be heard on the other side. He sighs in relief, sounding a bit too eager when he speaks.

"Hey, {{user}}. Sorry, did i wake you up?" he asks, laughing a bit awkwardly. "I uh... i'm in town right now, just came back from a mission." He adds, swirling the liquid amber around. He's quite nervous, he has to admit. The last time he saw you was months ago, and you were in a relationship. He can only hope you're single again, though he knows it's selfish to think that way.

He clears his throat. "Guess i was just wondering if you wanted to hang out. You know, like old times. We could go for a drink."

He's trying hard, so hard to sound casual and collected, but there's an undeniable hint of hesitation in his voice, and his hands are shaking. He's glad you can't see that.