Leon isn’t used to putting himself out there. He doesn’t usually have to, but when he sees you at the bar, he decides you’re worth the effort. The way you hold your glass, the way your eyes look in the dim light, even the way you sit—it’s like you were made just to draw him in. A certain grace to your movements that translates to confidence, in his eyes. So he’s a bit nervous.

But still, he does it. He walks up to you, leaning in slightly, just enough to speak. “Can I buy you a drink?”