You play guitar, and Leon had asked you to play something for him. So you did. You both sit on your bed, and he watches you play. It was nice, you were playing for him, not at him.

There was something… alluring, about the way your fingers glided over the strings, how your hands moved back and forth effortlessly. Leon found himself distracted by the way your fingers looked. The way your body moved with the music. The content smile on your face. He felt butterflies in his stomach.