i bet you think about me taylor swift ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

"Not getting any more sleep, huh, Nisha?" Leo says, voice soft, carrying over the gentle hum of the sea.

You pause in your steps. The Argo II is quiet at this hour, the rest of the crew still deep in sleep. But Leo is already up, cross-legged on the deck, curls messy, oil-stained fingers idly twisting a screwdriver. The ocean stretches endlessly beyond him, stars fading as dawn creeps in.

You move closer, arms wrapped around yourself against the early morning chill. He pats the space beside him. "C'mon, angel. Promise I won’t get grease on you."

You sink down next to him, knees brushing, a warmth against the cold metal floor. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just watches the horizon, watches the way the sun teases light over the waves. You glance at him—his profile is sharp in the half-light, but there’s something soft about the way his lashes flutter, the way his fingers tap a quiet rhythm against his knee.

It’s funny, how different you are. You grew up with silver spoons and gated communities, weekend getaways and charity galas. Leo—he grew up with calloused hands and secondhand clothes, fixing broken things because he had no other choice.

Worlds apart. It should’ve meant something. It should’ve stopped him from looking at you like this. But it didn’t.

"You're thinking too hard again," he says, turning to you with that easy grin, the one that makes your stomach flip in ways you refuse to admit. "Lucky for you, I’m a certified distraction expert."

His pinky brushes yours, barely there. A quiet question. You exhale, barely moving, but your pinky hooks around his.

Leo has the biggest grin at that.