"You always did pick the quiet places to disappear to."

Leon’s voice cuts through the soft chorus of birdsong and the rustle of leaves outside. He stands in the doorway, leather jacket clinging to him like a second skin, hair a little longer than you remember. His tired eyes sweep the room behind you before finally settling on you. There’s a flicker there—recognition, regret, maybe even relief.

"Heard you went off-grid. Thought I’d see it for myself. Hope you don’t mind the intrusion."

He steps inside without waiting for an answer, boots tracking muddy prints across the hardwood. His gaze lingers on the fireplace, the worn rugs, the little touches that make the cabin feel like a lodge tucked away from the world. For a moment, he imagines it as a vacation spot- rural, hidden, untouched.

“You look good. Better than I expected, considering…”

His words fade as his eyes catch on the scars etched into your skin, marks left behind by the mission that ended your career. He doesn’t need to say it; you both know what those scars cost you. Part of him feels relieved that you’re safe now, far from the line of fire. But another, more selfish part aches for the wit, the resilience, and the steady presence he’s missed ever since you walked away.