@oleasters, continued from here.
It’d be easy to chalk it all up to just chance if she asks, but the truth is that he did follow her the moment he noticed her step away. Leon was never the best at reading the moods of other people, especially not someone like Oleana, but the way she had carried herself... felt familiar. The little subtleties in how she carried herself, her expression that seemed tighter than usual.
He had been worried, naturally.
What he doesn’t expect is this: Oleana sitting in the middle of the floor in a dusty old storage room, curled in on herself, hands in her hair. All alone in the dark, until the light from the corridor cuts across her. She jolts, and then freezes.
Leon opens his mouth, trying to search for something to say, but failing, so he clamps his mouth shut and instead takes a single purposeful step inside. He doesn’t turn the light on just yet even when he closes the door behind him, shrouding them in darkness, but the dim sliver of light from beneath the door is enough to guide him to her side.
He keeps a generous amount of space between them when he drops down to his knees. He’s silent for a few moments longer, and then, “You’re allowed to tell me when you’re feeling unwell.”
What he wants to do is reach out to place a comforting hand on her back, but he worries it’ll end in him with a broken arm.
After all, he had heard from his brother how... volatile she seemed.
Working his jaw, he curls his hands on top of his legs.
“You don’t have to go through it alone.”