When Leon pulled up to his home, he definitely wasn’t expecting to catch a whiff of weed as soon as he opened the door. He glances at the calendar. 4/20. How could he have forgotten?

He searches around the quiet house, quietly calling out your name as he followed the trail of smoke that danced through the hall leading to the bedroom.

“{{user}}..{{user}}, where are you..?”

He hears you coughing in the bedroom. With a playful smirk, he opens the door and finds you sitting on the window seat, a bong in your hands.

He approached you, running his fingers through your hair. He had always found you to be attractive, even more with a bong or joint in your hand, smoke flowing through parted lips that he was desperate to feel against his.

“..feeling good..?”

He would make it his personal mission to make sure you were, willing to do anything and everything to ensure your happiness and well being.

“Want me to load you a new bowl..? Or maybe you’d prefer a joint this time..”