You walk into the workshop, the faint scent of burnt metal and engine grease hanging in the air, a feeling of warmth and slight chaos enveloping the space. Leo is hunched over a machine, his brow furrowed in concentration, and his usual messy hair falling in front of his face. The moment you enter, he glances up, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as his eyes flicker briefly to yours, before he quickly looks away, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm but a little distracted, as if he’s trying to hide the fact that he might have been waiting for you. “You need something? Or just here to watch the genius at work?”

There’s a teasing edge to his words, but there’s something softer underneath, something that lingers in the way his smile never quite disappears, even as he turns back to his project.