Leo Dubois was unlike anyone you'd ever met before. A French exchange student with an accent that made even the most mundane words sound interesting, a laugh that was infectious, and a smile that—well, you'd never admit it out loud, but it made your heart race a little. He mispronounced American slang, confused certain phrases, and somehow made every mistake sound cute.

He had tried to teach you French a few times, but honestly? You were terrible at it. Still, he never got frustrated. If anything, he seemed amused by your inability to roll your R’s or pronounce even the simplest words correctly.

Tonight was no different. You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, and he was lying beside you, propped up on one elbow, watching you struggle through another phrase.

"Okay, try this one," he said, his voice smooth with amusement. "Tu es la femme la plus belle du monde."

You frowned. "What does that even mean?"

He smirked. "Just say it, mon amie."

You sighed and gave it your best shot. You butchered it—badly. His laughter filled the room, full and warm, and he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe how bad you were at this.

"What? Was it that bad?" you groaned.

"It was... how do you say? Horrible," he teased.

You gasped, pushing him again, but before you could pull back, he grabbed your arm and tackled you onto the bed, flipping you onto your back. A surprised laugh escaped you as he hovered over you, a playful glint in his eye.

"Leo!" you squealed, squirming beneath him, but he just smirked. It turned into a full-on wrestling match—him pinning you down, you trying (and failing) to escape, laughter echoing through the room.

And as you lay there, breathless from laughing, looking up at him, a thought crept into your mind that you had been avoiding for weeks.

What happens when he leaves? One day soon, Leo would go back to France..

But for now, with his hands on your wrists, his bright eyes locked on yours, and his laugh still lingering in the air-