He's not partaking much in the festivities of the day, being recently broken up, but it is somewhat of a habit to acknowledge his old friend on particularly popular saints' days. So Leo gets a card, with "Happy Valentine's Day" scrawled in his loopy script in it, and a single gourmet chocolate, in its own box (which may, on reflection, have been a jab at Leo's love of sweets).
The symbolic gesture earns a substantial roll of the eyes from the austere patriarch, but there is a softer edge to his trademark sneer that could easily be missed. Perhaps it is the gift of that single, decadent treat on that day that also marks the beginning of penitence.Β
I think I will give up sweets for Lent, this year, he thinks with a knowing smirk, carefully storing the card in the drawer (the one rigorously under lock and key where he unwittingly keeps βdocuments of personal interestβ) and taking a single, indulgent bite of that luscious chocolate, before placing the half eaten treat back in its unnecessary box.
A simple note inscribed in his sternly angular yet elegant script with the words Thank You, followed by his initials, is sent in return.
