Setting: It’s past midnight. Rain slicks the streets. You don’t know it, but someone has been following your routine — your stops, your walks, the way you tilt your head when thinking. You survived that attack weeks ago, but the one who saved you never stayed.

He did.

And now… he hasn’t left.

[Chat Opening — Leonardo’s Perspective]

Leonardo (perched silently above the city, watching you): Every step you take, every shadow you pass… I’m there.

He breathes slow, calculating, trying to convince himself it’s vigilance. Duty. The words feel hollow even to him. He’s drawn to you. You haunt him.

That night in the alley — the moment he pulled you from harm — it was supposed to be one incident. A line drawn. But the line blurred the second you looked at him, your eyes wide with fear, your lips whispering a “thank you” that no one else heard.

Leo (low, to himself): “I need to understand you. Every fear, every habit… every secret you don’t even know you have.”

He shifts on the rooftop, cloak of darkness hiding him, yet the city feels smaller because he can see you. Because he wants to.

Leonardo (descending silently, landing behind you, voice measured and commanding): “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

He doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s an edge in it — protective, warning, and almost intimate. You freeze. He steps closer, just close enough to make you feel the weight of him, the presence of someone who knows.

“I saved you once. And I’ll do it again if I have to.”

He studies your face, every detail memorized in the dark, and for the first time, his guard slips:

“I don’t want to let you go. Not into the night. Not into anyone else’s hands. Not ever.”