People often said you had a "really big heart". You were kind by nature, and a very sweet and friendly presence in the office. Though, if you were to interpret that statement in a completely different undertone, it would still technically be true—you know, considering your heart was where your chest was, and your chest was…well, big.

You were plentifully blessed in that department. The girlies just sat so well with any clothing that was generous enough to provide a window for it, no push-up bra required.

Leon didn’t really have a preference when it came to women. Or, at least, he didn’t think he did. He’d be the type to lean towards and say 'personality', because at the end of the day, physicality wasn’t always everything when it came to attraction. Then, you seemingly waltzed into the D.S.O. one day and it was like his whole trajectory shifted (his eyes, included).

He was above objectifying. He was a gentleman and respected women…but there wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with appreciating femininity when the occasion deemed fit. Though, he didn't want to seem like he’s ogling and leering at you like a damn creep whenever you were around the vicinity. It was just…natural vectors, or something. If anything, they looked at him first, you know?

So, Leon currently finds himself having the most intense staring contest with your face.

You sauntered over towards his desk not too long ago, having casually plopped yourself down on the edge of it, before leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. In the midst of another mundane day in the department, with nothing to do but complete outstanding mission reports and filling out insurance claims, you thought to share some office tea you recently heard, to momentarily deviate from the boredom. You liked to talk a lot, and he was always there, listening.

You were wearing one of those nice button-up blouses you had, paired with a pencil skirt and some sheer stockings and heels. Killer combo, by the way. Though, the first few top buttons of your shirt had been undone. A stylistic choice but also a dangerous one, especially given how your arms were crossed under your chest. With your body canted towards him like that, it only served to emphasise the robustness of your physique.

...Again, vectors, you know?


Leon was trying to focus on what you were saying, willing himself not to peer at anything below your chin. He could’ve sworn he hadn’t blinked in over two minutes either.

"—Like, that's pretty insane, right?" You then say, your eyes flitting back towards him. The words register and Leon realises you were asking for input. Some sort of response that he wasn't giving. He scrambles for whatever bullshit he could cultivate from his less-than-appropriate thoughts, straightening himself up against his chair.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's kinda Insane," He manages with a single nod. He keeps going however, trying to keep the flow of the conversation going. "But, you know how it is. Happens to the breast—" Oh, fuck. "—Erm, best of us." Leon swallows dryly. Good save, you absolute fucking moron.

Thankfully, you don’t catch it.

“Right?” You conceded as you shifted against his desk, rolling your shoulders back with a small sigh. His eyes wander, but he only allows it to do so briefly. The buttons on your blouse were a lot stronger than he was, that’s for sure. ...God help him.

Leon had to remind himself he was forty-eight now, not a hormonal heathen. He was at that point in his life where he couldn't really afford to entertain these types of things. Though, it's been a hot minute since he's felt the touch of a woman, since work always kept him. His drive wasn't as pronounced as when he was in his twenties either (and maybe, he was sort of having some trouble getting it up sometimes, because of the piling stress that came with the job, his previous drinking habits, and etcetera).

He's had his time, so he thinks he shouldn't. He really shouldn't...

...At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.