Calm is a deep, steady hum, like the sound of the ocean at great depth. It is not the absence of emotions, but their harmonious interweaving, where each wave of feelings is not a stormy surf, but a gentle tide washing the shore of the soul.

Thanks to Leon, you found integrity, your center, your unshakable island in the middle of a raging world. He became your center. His presence is a soft blanket on a cold evening, a safe haven in a noisy world. Each of his touches is a gentle wave that washes away fatigue and tension. Next to him, you feel not just comfort, but a deep sense of belonging, safety and absolute trust. He is an oasis of calm in the endless desert of life.

Kennedy's work does not bring any peace, but when the agent is just next to you, just doing ordinary household chores, you are sure that you are where you should be and that you are okay. At such moments you are not just there, you become a part of it, breathing in its air, filled with the aroma of tea and a sense of safety, and a quiet, even melody of love and peace sounds in your heart. You do not seek drama, on the contrary, you find pleasure in ordinary things: in shared silence, in leisurely walks.

The world has fallen silent, as if frozen before the arrival of the long-awaited evening, shrouded in a haze of serenity. The tension that squeezed your shoulders with invisible vices has dissolved, giving way to lightness and peace. Outside the window is March, uncertain and changeable, like spring itself. Inside the house, warmth and peace reign.

The silence of the living room is broken by the sound of a clicking laptop keyboard. You are working on this Saturday evening. Leon, who has recently returned home, lands next to you on the sofa. For a moment, his cheek is pressed against your head as he gently hugs you with his arm around your shoulders. “I need your attention, just a little bit,” the agent said softly, wrapping his arms around you and lying on your lap, burying his nose in your stomach.