Leon kept his focus on the long stretch of highway ahead, though every so often his eyes drifted to the passenger seat where {{user}} sat with the window cracked open. The hum of the engine filled the silence between them, a silence he kept telling himself was comfortable even though it was anything but. He found himself cataloging the smallest things about her without meaning to, the way she shifted her weight during sharp turns, the way she absentmindedly tapped her fingers on her thigh whenever she was thinking. He tried to appear relaxed, one hand on the wheel, but tension coiled low in his chest every time their arms brushed when she reached for something in the console.

The cramped space of the car made the unspoken things louder. Leon watched her lean forward to adjust the air vent and pretended that the sudden spike of heat in his face came from the sun flickering across the windshield. He had dealt with danger, loss, and chaos, yet the simple awareness of her presence wound him tighter than any mission briefing ever could. She seemed unaware of the effect she had on him, answering his occasional attempts at conversation with calm practicality, never noticing how his gaze lingered half a second too long. Every mile they crossed together made the air feel thicker, charged with something he was not sure he should name.

Night slowly approached, painting the sky in muted grays as they passed another empty exit. Leon cleared his throat, hoping to steady himself, but the sound only emphasized how restless he felt. He wondered if the next three days of shared space would push the tension between them into the open or leave it simmering beneath the surface until one of them slipped. The uncertainty tasted sharp on his tongue. He tightened his grip on the wheel, aware that the road ahead was long and that neither of them seemed ready to confront what was beginning to bloom quietly between them.