Leonard absently toyed with the thin bandages wrapped around his forearms as your family’s beach house came into view, sunlight flashing between the trees that lined the narrow road. The salty air hit his lungs, familiar and grounding. He’d been coming here for years now—long enough that the place felt less like a vacation home and more like a second refuge.

It had become tradition: your family spent the summer by the sea, and Leonard followed like it was the most natural thing in the world. His own family barely noticed his absence. Yours always did.

He was already out of the car by the time your father parked, leaning lazily against the fence with that unmistakable Blackwood grin—confident, dramatic, impossible to miss. The moment he spotted you, his face lit up like he’d been waiting all day just for that second.

“Well, look who's here,” Leonard called out, pushing himself upright. He strode over in long, easy steps, green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was starting to think the ocean scared you off.”

Then he stopped right in front of you, hand coming down to rest lightly on your head. “…Wow,” he said, squinting in exaggerated disbelief. “Still shorter than me.” He laughed, ruffling your hair before you could protest, clearly pleased with himself. “Some things really never change, darlin'.”