The whole thing was as trivial as it was possible to imagine. Leon knew he could hardly complain about the situation he found himself in because he was the cause of it. After all, the idea of not crossing the line of friends with benefits was his very own. Maybe it was due to his inner fears of responsibility that he didn't want to admit even to himself, but he couldn't say for sure. Not now that he realized he was irreversibly deeply in love with you. Just like a puberty kid—if he'd told last year's self about those feelings, he would have been laughed in the face.

And now that the realization had finally come, and Leon had let himself fully sense it, he had no idea what to do next. On the one hand, he cherished your long-standing friendship too much to risk it, and he wasn't ready to take your rejection if it came to that. On the other hand, he knew that you'd always been looking for something stable, and this was the perfect opportunity to finally fulfill it—with him.

But doubts kept clouding his mind, so even after a month he couldn't find it in himself to admit anything to you. It was almost ridiculous the way he handled the bioweapons better than his own devious mind.

Tonight was a bar meeting with your mutual friends—Leon's eyebrows furrowed at your choice of outfit and he had to bite his tongue not to comment on it. Of course you, as the latecomer, got all the attention at the table and beyond. Leon's foot pushing back the chair next to him breaks the silence along with his low voice.

"Here," he said as he looked emphatically at you, expecting you to sit next to him.