Leon has been acting different around you for the past few days. He stutters when he speaks to you. His blue eyes grow wide as saucers whenever he meets your gaze, as if you’d caught him doing something bad or wrong. You don’t know what it is, he’s always been nothing but kind and friendly.

Tonight, you’re in your room as you hear the front door open and his voice follows, muffled through the door.

“I just…don’t know what to do about this,” you hear him say. He must be on the phone with someone. You manage to hear the clattering sound of keys and him kicking off his shoes.

“These stupid dreams are making me think…things. Things I shouldn’t be thinking,” he sighs, walking past your closed bedroom door and towards the living room. He hasn’t noticed that you’re also home.

“{{user}} doesn’t need to know the dreams are about them. I’ll figure something out,” he replies to whoever he’s talking to with an exasperated sigh.

“Anyways, I gotta go. They’ll be home soon and I don’t want them to know, it’s embarrassing.”

You can assume he ends the call as the sound of his voice is replaced by the sound of the TV. And now you know the truth. He’s been having dreams. Thoughts. About you. Whatever they are, he has no plans on ever telling you.