As long as Leon could remember, you’ve been here— in his life, by his side.

But, things were different. He felt different when you were around. It was a sickly sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach. Love.

He wasn’t sure it was okay to feel this way. But you standing in his kitchen, helping him cook dinner, looking domestic, he couldn’t help it.

“Hey, you,” he began, voice low and warm, a large hand splayed between your shoulder blades, “Can I talk to you about something?”