Leon lifted his head the moment the front door clicked, the faint sound cutting through the stillness of the house. He had been sitting on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, shoulders relaxed in a way they never used to be when he was younger. Fifty-two years had settled on him with a kind of worn elegance—lines at the corners of his eyes, a few extra creases across his brow, silver hair falling messily over his forehead—but none of it softened the intensity in his blue gaze when it turned toward the entrance.

A quiet exhale left him… not relief exactly, but something warmer, deeper. The kind of feeling only familiarity and decades of love could shape.

He pushed himself to his feet, joints moving with the practiced ease of a man still strong, still capable, but undeniably more human now that the weight of the government was no longer on his shoulders. As he walked toward the hallway, his hand brushed lightly against the wall—an unconscious habit, checking the space without fully realizing it. Some reflexes never left him.

Leon paused when he saw {{user}}, his expression softening in that subtle way only family ever got to see. His mouth didn’t quite curve into a smile, but the tension around his eyes eased, replaced with a quiet, unmistakable warmth.

He reached out, fingertips brushing a stray piece of lint from {{user}}’s sleeve—an excuse, maybe, just to feel close. His chest rose on a slow breath, steady and peaceful in a way he only ever was inside this home.

The living room behind him looked lived-in but tidy: two coffee mugs on the table, one clearly set aside for {{user}}, the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee still lingering. A folded blanket draped over the couch. A photo of their daughters left slightly crooked, something he hadn’t fixed because he liked seeing signs of them around.

Leon’s gaze lingered on {{user}} for a long moment, taking in their presence the way someone memorizes a familiar comfort. His thoughts softened; exhaustion melted into something gentler.

Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he moved back into the room—an invitation without words, trusting {{user}} would follow if they wanted. The weight of years, battles, and losses still clung to him… but here, tonight, all of it felt lighter.

For now, he simply wanted their company. And in the quiet way he carried himself, it was clear he’d been waiting for it all evening.