Summary: When Grace gets stuck in an all-day training seminar, she leaves Emily in your hands, and the hands of the most overprepared, intensely stressed-out guardian on the planet: Leon. This day is a high-stakes mission for him, fueled by a heavy debt he is desperate to repay. While he treats simple playtime like a tactical operation, it’s up to you to dial down his anxiety and help him finally break the ice with the little girl.
Word count: 5,3k
Featuring: Fluff, fluff and some fluff.
The quiet drive was disturbed by only two things: the steady patter of rain against the windows, a dreary reminder that the weather hadn't budged since morning, and Leon, who was sitting so rigidly behind the wheel you’d think his back had gone out. He was a bundle of nerves.
You had tried to calm him down more than once, but it hadn’t done much good. You were currently on your way to Grace's apartment to watch Emily for the day. Grace had a training course she was really eager to attend, so naturally, she’d asked Leon for help, since they’d stayed in touch after everything that happened.
Glancing at Leon’s clenched jaw, you could tell just how much this was weighing on him. He was acting like he was heading into a war zone rather than going to babysit a child.
Even though you thought his fears were ungrounded, you understood them. You and Leon had already met up with Grace and Emily on a few occasions for coffee and ice cream just to chat. Emily didn’t remember Leon – or anything that happened at Rhodes Hill, really. You tried reminding him of that, but he insisted that watching her at home "was different," a whole new level.
You stole a glance at the back seat of the Porsche, where a downright absurdly oversized teddy bear sat like a full-fledged passenger next to an art kit. The bear had been Leon's idea; he’d dug his heels in about buying something "proper," as if he wanted to make up to Emily for all those unwanted events. For once, you were the one who had to drag him out of a store, seeing that he would have gladly bought out the whole place instead of overthinking what to choose.
By the time you arrived, the tension radiating from Leon was almost electric in the damp air. You gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze and rang the doorbell while Leon stood beside you, his frame practically disappearing behind the massive bear.
Grace opened the door after a moment, her face a mix of relief and stress, likely due to her upcoming course. Her hair was a bit messy, and she was wearing one shoe and one slipper. She ushered you inside immediately, her eyes widening at the sight of Leon – or rather, his cargo.
“Hey! Thank you guys so much for being here. Emily, come say hi,” Grace called out, glancing toward the little girl who stood a bit behind her, hiding in her shadow.
Emily took a few timid steps forward, her small hands clutching the hem of her colorful butterfly shirt. You noticed her eyes light up the second she spotted Leon’s gift.
“Hey auntie, hey uncle Leon,” she said softly, offering a faint smile.
Leon jumped straight into action, looking utterly ridiculous with the bear, though you had to admit it was pretty adorable. He knelt down next to Emily and plonked the plushie right beside her. The little girl instantly sunk her hands into it, feeling how soft it was.
“Is this for me?” she asked.
“Sure thing,” Leon replied firmly. His voice, though soft, was a bit too serious. “Do you think you can handle a big guy like this? He needs a lot of looking after.”
“I think so,” Emily answered proudly, before shifting her gaze to the art kit Leon was still holding. “What’s that?”
“Guess you’ll just have to find out, huh? Want to open it?” Leon asked.
“Okay, let’s go to my room,” Emily chirped, disappearing down the hall as she dragged the bear along the floor. Leon followed right on her heels.
Grace, who had been watching the scene with you, shot you an incredibly expressive, shocked look.
“It was all his idea. There was just no talking him out of it,” you replied, giving a helpless shrug.
“Really, you shouldn’t have…” Grace said. “Is Leon okay? He seemed a little off. I hope I didn't ruin your plans,” she added a moment later, putting on her coat to leave.
“Are you kidding? No problem at all. He’s just a bit stressed about whether he’ll live up to Emily’s expectations,” you said, smiling faintly.
“Oh, I’m sure he will! After he got her two extra helpings of ice cream last time, she hasn't stopped asking when you'd visit us with the cool uncle Leon,” Grace laughed, adjusting her coat in front of the mirror.
“You better get going or you’ll be late,” you added with a smile, watching Grace flutter around the hallway, now double-checking the contents of her purse.
As she reached the door, she stopped dead in her tracks and spun back toward you, frustration written all over her face.
“I knew I forgot something! I didn't make any lunch. C-could you… c-could you guys just order something later?” she asked, worried.
You just smiled and gently nudged Grace out the door, saying, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it. Go!”
And just like that, you were left alone with the mission of keeping Emily entertained until evening.
Instinctively, you wandered over to Emily’s room to check if Leon needed any backup, but as it turned out, he was doing just fine.
Leon was kneeling on the floor, setting up the easel with the canvas and paints from the art kit. Emily had already sat the teddy bear down at a small table and pulled a neat little stack of books from her shelf, placing them right in the middle of it.
“Emily, do you know what you’re going to paint yet?” you started warmly from the doorway to make your presence known.
“Yeah! Uncle Leon said I can start by painting the bear.”
“Great idea,” you noted, stepping into the room. Leon looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and you had to fight the urge to grin at how deathly serious he looked. “I see you’ve got quite the book collection. Show me which one we’re starting with, and uncle Leon will go take off his shoes and jacket, okay?” you asked, turning your gaze to Leon, who had just finished tinkering with the easel.
“Yeah, actually, good idea,” he agreed and slipped out into the hallway.
When he returned, you both invited him to the table, showing him the book you’d picked out – it was a sticker book packed with all kinds of animals and fantasy creatures. Your idea, and a good icebreaker, you figured.
The fun began as you started decorating the jungle page, taking turns placing stickers and suggesting where the animals should go.
“Why is the monkey on the ground instead of in the tree?” Emily asked, noticing where Leon had stuck it without giving its placement much thought.
“Uh…” Leon stammered, clearly caught off guard. “Because he’s afraid of heights.”
“Ohhh,” Emily concluded, and went right back to playing as if that made perfect sense.
Once the whole page was full, you moved on to the next one. Emily meticulously picked out the stickers she wanted Leon to place. As he started positioning them, she watched him intently. Noticing that he kept shaking his head to toss his bangs out of his eyes, she asked:
“Uncle, can you even see anything?”
The corners of Leon’s mouth twitched up in silent amusement. He was just opening his mouth to reply when he realized Emily wasn't waiting for an answer. With a swift, decisive move, the little girl reached for her wrist and slid off a thin, pale blue hair tie.
“Hold on, we need to fix this, or you’re going to miss and put the animal in the wrong spot again.”
You let out a soft snort at Emily's bossy tone and the pure mystification on Leon’s face. He froze completely. Or maybe he just froze because he had no clue how to react, looking like he was terrified that even breathing might scare her off. But as her small hands sunk into his bangs, he relaxed a bit, slouching down to make her job easier.
Emily swept his entire fringe straight up, mercilessly exposing his forehead, which was a shade paler than the rest of his face – built-in sun protection, you thought to yourself with a grin. Then, with absolute, childlike gravity, she tied it off right near the top of his head.
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. Leon's hair stuck straight up like a perfect little palm tree. His deadly serious expression did absolutely nothing to salvage his dignity; it only made it funnier. Emily looked thoroughly pleased with herself before going right back to her stickers. Leon shot you a sheepish look from under his raised brows, and you could see the tips of his ears flushing a faint pink.
“Don’t move a muscle, Kennedy. Emily, smile!” you whispered giggling, pulling your phone out of your pocket and snapping a quick picture before Leon could even think to protest.
Leon muttered something under his breath, letting out a heavy sigh. You decided to tease him a little more. Resting your chin on your hand, you eyed him critically before slowly shifting your gaze back to Emily, who was deeply focused on the task at hand.
“Emily, don’t you think uncle Leon looks a little… too gloomy?”
Leon didn't look up from the book, but you could tell he’d gone rigid, listening in.
“Just look at him,” you pressed on playfully, gesturing toward his massive frame. “Dark shirt, dark pants… it’s all a bit too serious, don’t you think? He doesn't really match this room… and he should, since he’s your guest.” You threw him a flirtatious wink on that last part, waiting for Emily’s verdict.
“Mhm, a little serious. Like he’s going to work,” the little girl agreed, wrinkling her nose.
“Exactly! Maybe we should pretty him up a bit?”
Emily nodded eagerly and scurried over to her toy shelf, rummaging through her things. Leon’s gaze was drilled into you, his eyes narrowed.
“Don’t tell me your pride is hurting,” you poked at him mischievously.
“No. But I guarantee something of yours is going to hurt tonight,” he muttered under his breath, straightening up slightly as Emily reappeared at his side with a fresh sheet of stickers. This new set practically screamed with bright colors; there were no animals here, just a collection of smiling suns, rainbows, and magical creatures.
Emily knelt down next to Leon, and he tentatively turned toward her, sitting cross-legged. The little girl peeled off the first sticker – a bright yellow sun – and with immense focus, aimed it straight at the center of his dark green t-shirt, right on his chest. Leon didn’t flinch. You almost wanted to remind him to breathe, but you decided not to spoil the moment.
“See, Leon? Way better.”
Emily, now completely in her element, really got into it. Leon adjusted the sticker after her, pressing it firmly against the fabric, and then simply allowed the stickers to rain down on him one by one, creating a ridiculous mosaic. A pink heart adorned his thick, scar-laden forearm, standing out sharply against his taut, prominent veins. A glittery unicorn found a home on his hard collarbone, just above the neckline of his shirt, and a tiny blue star decorated his neck.
The icing on the cake – or rather, the heart on the cheek – was a holographic heart that Emily slapped right on the middle of Leon’s cheek. You saw him close his eyes for a split second and clench his jaw at the touch. But when he opened them, his expression was the definition of a man resigned to his fate, though you couldn't shake the feeling that underneath it all, his heart had completely melted.
So there he sat right in front of you – a massive, gorgeously built agent in tactical gear, with a tiny ponytail sprouting from his head, plastered in sweet stickers, looking so utterly defenseless and endearing that you wanted to eat him right then and there.
“So, how do I look? Like a million bucks, huh?” Leon finally asked, turning his attention to Emily.
“You definitely match the decor better,” the little girl approved with a tiny smile.
When you finished up with the stickers and you and Emily were bouncing around ideas for what to do next, Leon, much to your surprise, beat you both to the punch. You quickly realized his sudden enthusiasm was driven by a desperate need to escape becoming the target of any more "girly" shenanigans. And so, building a fort became the next order of business.
“Climbing ropes versus a floral bedsheet… no real difference, just another day on the job,” Leon mumbled under his breath, stretching the sheets across the large armchairs in Grace’s living room. He moved them with careful precision, while you just stole glances every now and then, your eyes lingering on his back as his muscles flexed beneath the taut fabric of his shirt.
Tearing your eyes away, you and Emily took charge of the equally crucial decor department. Equipped with tape, you lined the sides of the fort (the chairs) with blank sheets of printer paper to serve as your canvases.
Once the structure was finally standing and Leon had double-checked to ensure not too much light leaked into your base, you all huddled inside to paint, letting Emily do the honors with the watercolor set you had bought her.
Everything was sailing smoothly until Emily decided she needed to explain to Leon how to make the color purple.
“Look, uncle Leon, first you mix the blue, but you have to scoop up a lot of it, and then… where’s the red?” Emily called out, spinning around in search of the paint.
Leon, who was sitting right beside her in the center of the fort, hunkered down beneath the low-hanging ceiling of sheets, didn’t manage to duck his head in time. Consequently, a broad, vibrant streak of bright blue now stretched from his collarbone all the way down to the middle of his shirt.
Leon froze, staring down at his chest in utter bewilderment, while you and Emily burst out laughing.
“Leon, your lack of reflexes is starting to worry me,” you teased, laughing properly.
“Auntie, it was supposed to be like that, uncle has camouflage now!” the little girl chimed in, trying to spin the accident into a deliberate tactical move.
“Oh, I see… or rather, I don't see,” you capped it off with amusement, pushing yourself up from the floor and crawling out of the fort. “I’ll leave you two to it for a bit. I’m going to whip us up some pancakes. Sound good, Emily?”
The little girl nodded fervently. “Can I have chocolate? Grace doesn't let me have it very often.”
“Chocolate it is, within reason,” you agreed, tossing her a wink before disappearing into the kitchen.
As you fried up the first batch of fluffy pancakes, Emily’s bright, booming laughter echoed from the living room time and again, letting you know Leon was holding his own. Besides, you had to admit he was doing a stand-up job. He could have been a bit less rigid, but at least he was being perfectly compliant.
At one point, you caught a strange, rhythmic thudding vibrating through the floorboards. You turned away from the stove, spatula in hand, and the sight that greeted you nearly made you drop it.
In trotted Leon. Literally. He was moving on all fours, trying to cushion every single step on the tiles so he wouldn't jar Emily, who was riding piggyback and clutching tightly to his t-shirt. Her face was radiant with pure, unbridled joy, and the little ponytail on top of Leon’s head swayed rhythmically with his every movement. It had been a long time since you’d fought so hard to keep from howling with laughter.
“Wow! Emily, you’ve got your very own pony!” you played along with a wide grin, crossing your arms. “So, how’s he holding up? Because I think I can hear his his joints creaking a bit when he moves.”
“He’s awesome!” little girl giggled, patting Leon on the shoulder. Leon merely leveled you with an unreadable gaze and walked over, stopping right beside you. He lowered his hips slightly so Emily would be closer to the ground and let out an ostentatious, heavy sigh, faking exhaustion before cutting Emily a wink over his shoulder.
“Uncle Leon, are you old?”
You couldn't hold it in; you snorted.
Leon froze for a second, then hoisted his head up as high as Emily’s weight on his back would allow, narrowing his eyes.
“Do I look old?” he asked, straining for a deadpan delivery, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching.
Emily, with absolute concentration, pressed the pad of her finger against the deep crease between his brows – the one that always showed up whenever Leon was thinking intensely or scanning his surroundings with his trademark sternness.
“A little bit. You have a line right here.”
At that, Leon closed his eyes and let his head drop low, releasing a theatrical groan of agony to dramatize Emily’s diagnosis, which caused his ponytail to loosen slightly.
Seeing his reaction, Emily quickly patted his shoulder reassuringly and added:
“Don’t worry, uncle Leon, we’ll go back to the base and patch it up,” she declared with total authority.
Leon peeked up at you from below, and it only just clicked for you then – with that ponytail, the stickers, and the paint, he didn't possess a single ounce of his usual solemnity anymore. You noticed with relief that he had clearly loosened up, too. After all, he really was doing great.
“Yes, boss,” he murmured softly to Emily and slowly trundled back toward the living room, tossing a parting shot over his shoulder, directed at you this time: “I might not be a thoroughbred stallion, but at least I’m not burning lunch.” He chuckled under his breath, and Emily echoed him.
“Shit!” you muttered, realizing you’d completely forgotten about your own assignment.
Fortunately, things weren't too bad. A few moments later, the fluffy, steaming pancakes landed on the plates. You claimed the first batch – the most singed ones – for yourself, perfectly willing to face the consequences of your own mistakes.
You set to work spreading a thin, perfectly even layer of chocolate on Emily’s pancake, careful not to overdo the sugar high. You rolled it up neatly and set it down right under Emily’s nose just as she and Leon drifted into the kitchen and took their places at the table.
“Dig in, bon appétit,” you said warmly.
Emily thanked you in a quiet, timid little voice. Meanwhile, you started on Leon’s pancakes, preparing a healthier version for him by slathering it in jam and topping it with sliced strawberries and blueberries.
Leon, in the meantime, had stood up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rummaging through the fridge before migrating to the cabinet you had just shut after putting away the chocolate jar.
When you turned around to set his portion down, you froze for a second.
With a stone face and a nonchalant flick of his wrist, Leon was laying out the items he’d just unearthed right in the middle of the table. First to catch your eye was a massive canister of whipped cream, and right next to it, the chocolate spread had made its triumphant return. As if that weren't enough, a package of crunchy coconut cookies sat right beside them. Was he pulling your leg?
Your mouth opened, ready to scold him openly and point out that he’d lost his mind, but you lost the brief, silent standoff that ensued. Leon locked eyes with you and raised his brows slightly, a downright disarming little smirk playing on his face. If he’d actually said anything right then, it undoubtedly would have been “drop it.” Under normal circumstances, you never would have, but this time you threw in the towel. Mostly because it would be a lousy move to snatch all of that away right out from under Emily’s nose, but the bigger reason was that you’d be throwing a wrench into Leon’s grand plan to win the little girl's approval. As if he even needed to work for it – you could see he simply didn't know how to say no to her, and probably didn't want to anyway.
You slid into your seat carefully, watching Emily's face light up.
“Wow,” she whispered.
Without a word, Leon grabbed the whipped cream, gave it a vigorous shake, and aimed it at Emily’s pancake, building a massive, fluffy mountain of white foam on top of it. He didn't even stop there. He fished two cookies out of the box and crushed them in his hands directly over said whipped cream.
You sat to the side with a slightly exasperated expression, savoring your charred pancake with a piece of strawberry.
“Just don’t tell Grace, okay?” Leon asked, looking for confirmation from Emily.
Emily pressed a finger to her lips and started eating. Leon did the same, he cut a large piece of pancake and popped it into his mouth, but he didn't chew yet. You blinked, and the whipped cream was back in his hand. He lifted it straight to his lips and, with a loud hiss of compressed air, squirted a solid portion of it directly into his mouth Emily watched him like she was under a spell. You caught your own heart beating a little faster in your chest as you saw him chew slowly, looking at the little girl with that tender little smile of his. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened, and you knew there weren't many people in the world who could put them there.
Eventually, when nothing was left on the plates but chocolate streaks and traces of cream – and on both Emily and Leon's faces, the crumbs of the evidence – you got up and began clearing the dishes.
“So, was it at least good?”
“Yeah,” Leon answered first in his low voice, licking his fingers, having decided somewhere halfway through that much like Emily, he was going to eat with his hands.
“Yeah!” the little girl chirped a second later, trying to mirror Leon’s answer with the exact same intonation.
You couldn't help but let out a snort, which only made Leon’s smirk widen. You headed over to the sink and started washing up. A moment later, Leon was at your side, intending to help dry the dishes, but you firmly nudged him away with your hip.
“Shoo, back to the living room. I heard from Grace that you're making huge progress with your reading, Emily. Why don't you show uncle Leon how you read?”
Emily just nodded and darted out of the kitchen. Leon hesitated, and you noticed that mounting panic creeping back into his eyes.
“What’s taking you so long? Did all that sugar slow you down?” you teased, adding a second later, “Just make sure to wash her hands before you start, or book is going to pay the price.”
Leon merely grunted under his breath but leaned in for a quick, fleeting peck on your lips before disappearing into the living room.
By the time you finished cleaning up and made your way after them, dusk had already settled outside, lazily creeping into the room, though it was firmly held at bay by the warm glow of the floor lamp. Leon was sunk deep into the armchair, and Emily was sitting on his lap, leaning her back against his broad chest. He held the book for her as she slowly traced her finger beneath the lines of text, stumbling through the syllables and piecing the words together. It was only during the long pauses, when she got stuck, that Leon would gently nudge her in the right direction, his voice low and incredibly soft.
You slipped into Emily’s bedroom to fetch a large, plush blanket to drape over them, calling out that you were going to brew some tea for everyone.
Once it was steeped, you watered Grace’s plants in the kitchen and swept under the table after noticing a few stray berries and cookie crumbs down there. But the sight that greeted you when you stepped back into the living room nearly moved you to tears.
They were both fast asleep. Clearly, the excessive helpings of dessert and all the earlier running around had taken just as much out of Leon as they had out of Emily. Leon’s head was resting against the backrest of the armchair, tilted slightly back, and his ponytail had slipped to the side, barely holding its ground. Emily, meanwhile, was curled into a ball on his chest, her little hands still gripping the book in a tight clutch.
They both looked so incredibly innocent that you caught yourself holding your breath as you sat down on the couch, setting the mugs onto the coffee table as quietly as you humanly could, resigning yourself to the fact that they would have to go cold, untouched.
A little later, deeply engrossed in reading articles on your phone, you caught the faint click of the lock at the front door. Grace stepped into the living room moments later, freezing mid-stride at the sight of Leon and Emily. You two simply exchanged a brief, warm look, and you flashed her a thumbs-up. Grace had to clap a hand over her mouth once the initial wave of adoration passed and she noticed just how ridiculous Leon looked – still covered in stickers, smudged with paint, and sporting that exceptional hairstyle.
Yet despite her whisper-quiet steps, Leon’s sharp instincts and training won out; he woke up barely a second later. He carefully transferred Emily onto the couch, tucking the blanket around her, and joined the two of you, rubbing the back of his neck with a soft yawn.
You began quietly gathering your things in the hallway. Grace whispered her thanks for the help and paid Leon a few compliments on his new look, to which he responded with a flustered smile and a faint flush rising on his cheeks.
You were just about to head out when a sleepy Emily appeared in the corridor.
“Will you come back again?” she asked quietly, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand.
You and Leon nodded almost in perfect unison. Grace gently encouraged Emily to say her goodbyes, which she did, approaching you first. You knelt down and gave her a tight hug, soothingly patting her back. When Emily turned to Leon, he immediately dropped to one knee, bringing himself down to her height. Emily took a step forward and threw her arms around his neck. Leon froze for a few seconds, utterly speechless, before finally wrapping his arms around her.
When the little girl pulled back, she pressed a loose, peeling sticker onto his cheek and added, “You were an awesome pony, uncle Leon. Next time we’re going to race.”
“You bet. I'll bring my special saddle with me,” Leon replied playfully, then, they traded high-fives.
A few moments later, you both piled into the car. You were rummaging through your purse, making sure you hadn't left anything behind, while Leon just sat there, fidgeting with something in his hands without turning the key in the ignition. After a moment, he nudged his arm toward you and opened his palm, revealing a tiny toy pony figurine.
“Oh?” you asked with amusement, trying to read any sort of emotion on his face.
Leon snorted under his breath. “Emily said it would keep me motivated for the next time I have to play horse. Promised her I'd practice.”
You laughed, resting a hand on his knee as he slid the toy back into his pants pocket. His face was unusually tense, so you spoke up.
“Hey, you did amazing today, love,” you said reassuringly, giving his leg a gentle squeeze. You hit the bullseye. He looked at you for a fleeting second before quickly averting his eyes, staring intently at the steering wheel.
“You really think so?” he asked, a genuine note of uncertainty clipping his voice.
“I don’t even have to think it, it’s plain as day. Emily absolutely adores you. And it’s hard to blame her,” you added, reaching over to fix his bangs, which were waving unpredictably after hours of being cooped up in that ponytail.
You saw his jaw clench as he flinched minimally. He parted his lips but said nothing. All the stress accumulated from the day was finally draining out of him, visible in the tightness of his face and the slight slump of his broad shoulders. He wanted to say something, but you knew exactly why he kept it in – he would have simply broken down.
Instead, he just intertwined his fingers with yours and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles, each one in turn. He let out a shaky breath through his nose, started the car, and pulled out onto the street.
“I really should start putting your hair up like that more often, though… I'll be able to see your eyes better when I'm looking down at you…”
“Don't even try it,” Leon cut you off, but you caught the small, involuntary smile tugging at his lips.
After about thirty minutes, you were nearing your apartment building, but instead of taking the familiar turn, Leon veered down a different street and, much to your surprise, pulled into a drive-thru.
“I need to get a coffee,” he muttered, shifting gears as he crept toward the window.
You practically spun around in your seat, arching a brow. “At this hour? Just so you can toss and turn in bed later and complain that you can't fall asleep? Oh no, my dear…”
You were, however, ruthlessly ignored. Leon pulled up to the speaker, ordering a black coffee with a double shot for himself, and one with milk for you.
“I have plans for tonight, sweetheart,” he announced in a low, rumbling baritone, laced with a dangerous hint of a flirtatious edge.
“Oh, is that so?” you caught his drift, biting your lower lip.
“Myeah,” he hummed, his lazy gaze sweeping over you from beneath half-lidded eyes. “I intend to see exactly how much life is left in me,” he added with a dramatic flair.
“Oh god, I was just kidding!” you laughed, recalling your exchange back in the kitchen.
“Well, I wasn't,” he said, leaning over to nipping gently at the very lip you had just been biting.
When you pulled up to the pickup window, a young girl, looking profoundly bored with life, sluggishly opened the glass to hand over the cups. But the moment her eyes landed on Leon, she froze mid-motion. Her eyes grew wide as saucers, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks as she desperately tried to maintain her professionalism.
Leon accepted the drinks and passed them to you, tossing the girl a gravelly “thanks” before rolling up the window and pulling back onto the road. After a moment of silence, he added:
"See? The younger crowd still thinks I’ve got it. She was definitely checking me out."
"I have no doubt, handsome," you commented. "It's entirely your personal charm, and definitely not the colorful stickers plastered all over your face." You delivered the line completely flatly, though a rich vein of amusement ran through your words.
Leon went rigid for a second, his hand involuntarily flying to his cheek, feeling the holographic heart sticker he had completely forgotten about.
"Shit…" he muttered under his breath, and you finally erupted into the unbridled, helpless laughter you had been suffocating since the middle of the day.
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