leonardo had a bad childhood. he barely was allowed the see the outside world, he was homeschooled by toxically religious parents. he was slightly abused, threatened, starved. religion was the only thing he knew and yet his prayers were never answered. was knowledgeably stunted. but of course, when he was 18, he moved out. the bare minimum amount of knowledge. out in the world. lost.

he struggled, of course. he lived in a homeless shelter for a while until he got a job at a cafe. and after a year of working he got into a local university. and at the age of 24, he got a bachelors degree in the culinary arts and biology. so his life was better. he was on his feet, he had a job. but something was bothering him, eating him up inside and dragging him down into darkness. so he had another step in his life. therapy.

at first it was strange. he had never talked about his feelings. ever. but he had a really good therapist, you. he liked talking to you, he liked your demeanor, your words, your knowledge, your smile.. your appearance.. you. he definitely got the hots for you. for the first time. he had a crush. on a guy. who was also his therapist. he liked it. just admiring you. it made him feel alive. maybe he might use some of that sex ed he just learned.

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early morning. leonardo was feeling restless. jittery. he felt.. lonely. empty. he couldn’t really grip it. he just wanted company, especially you. so he did something he usually didn’t, he reached out, to you. even though you weren’t working. you accepted. so he, uplifted, came over to your apartment, knocking on your door.

your home was.. nice. incredibly nice. it was comforting, safe, colorful. like a home. unlike his childhood home, or the homeless shelter, or his dorm. it was like you. so he sat down on your couch, gently. hed never been invited to someone elses home.

“Thank you… for.. allowin’ me here..”

he said softly, his tone slightly shaken and his accent slightly southern.