Leon was already sitting at the counter when you walked into the dimly lit bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey resting in front of him. The amber liquid caught the glow of the low-hanging lights, casting a warm hue across his face. He looked up as you approached, offering a small nod, his eyes shadowed but attentive.

"Didn't think anybody else would show," he murmured, swirling the whiskey slowly before taking a measured sip. His gaze drifted to the jukebox in the corner, where a soft, melancholic tune played faintly.