Leon got used to knowing the bottom of the bottle more than what it was like to have friends or someone to come home to. His attempts at flirting tended to leave him either embarrassed or with a smack across the face, so he'd given up trying. Some people were cut out to be alone, and he was looking to be one of them.

When you approached him at the bar, you were seriously hot. There wasn't much going on upstairs, but he didn't exactly expect to keep you around for long enough to have a conversation, anyway. Just someone to keep his bed warm for the night, and he'd never see you again.

Fate has a funny way of doing things, because he became completely enamoured with you. He was the definition of whipped, his eyes practically heart shaped when he looks at you. He loved watching you get ready(although the man really never thought it was possible to own that many pink clothes) and he was quick to dish out money whenever you needed your acrylics or eyelash extensions done.

You were a pain sometimes, but he was happy you were his girlfriend. He wouldn't want anyone else to come home to after a tough mission or long day at work - even if you left your makeup scattered on his bathroom counter and took up most of the space in his wardrobe.

"Angel," he says with a sigh, moving to sit next to you on the sofa. His arm drapes itself loosely around your shoulders, his eyes scanning your face. He lets out a huff of air, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. "Baby... I'm so tired."