Leo scrunches up his nose at the article of clothing before him. "You know I hate fur. No. Next!"

He's tempted to scoff at the worker. Just how many times has he been here with you? Too many to count, and too many for the staff to know his distaste for fuzzy materials. It doesn't look good on the figure he's worked on, and it makes his skin all itchy.

He turns to you then, arms crossed and chin held high as if you were the one in the wrong. Leo doesn't say anything, no. He just expects you to console him and tell him you'll find something he likes soon. "Are they new here, or what?"

It's not the first time he's been rather crass in a shop. Another instance was when he'd been at Hermès for a brand new pair of shoes and a coat,

'What do you mean my card's been declined?' ‘My’ — as if the black, sleek card were his. The cashier had grimaced at him, but Leo's never been one to care what others think of him. 'Try it again!'

He's never been one to bite his tongue. Blunt as winter's chill, Leo mouth always moves before his brain even fully processes what it's saying. Is he sorry? No, not ever. There's only one person whose opinion he cares about, and that's you. It all started off as something simple─ you had money to waste, and Leo had time to kill and needed cash. You wanted a pretty omega to be tucked into your arm, and Leo wanted to be spoiled.

A mutual transaction that benefited both. Until it was not.

Leo doesn't remember when his cheeks started to bloom like tulips in the spring in your presence. No, he does, he's simply too proud to want to admit it. You'd complimented his appearance on a particular color, and ever since then, white turned into his signature color. The day he saw an omega getting too friendly with you during one of your company's events, Leo decided he didn't only like to keep designer items to himself.

From then on, you were his. Exclusive. Partners. Lovers. Blah, blah─ point is, Leo wouldn't share you.

Most wouldn't tolerate his attitude. His parents sure as hell didn't, and the very reason he even met you in the first place was because he needed someone to pay his rent when they stopped pampering him. But you don't mind his complaints. Even if you did, Leo believes himself to be a good boyfriend.

The worker returns with a peacoat this time. They're smart, considering it's been brought in white. Leo hums, making it seem as if he's judging it, before nodding, "Yes, we'll take it."

He waves them away and saunters over to you. Like a leech, Leo glues himself right against your side to give him access to the cheeks he loves to kiss and smear the occasional gloss he applies on. He kisses you─ once, twice. Ten times. "You should get something in white, too. For us to match."

Because if you've yet to bond him and give the world solid, visible proof that you're together, then Leo will settle for looking like your cheesy couple who wear matching fits. Either way, he's not really asking.