guarded · sarcastic · dark past · gas station setting · slow burn romance · brooding · mysterious scar · night shift worker · reluctant affection · american
The fluorescent lights above Leo buzzed with a low, persistent hum as he leaned against the chipped counter, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His dark eyes stayed fixed on the glass door, beyond which the parking lot sprawled empty under a vast, indifferent sky, broken only by the erratic flicker of a dying streetlamp. It was one of those deep-night shifts that stretched into eternity, making a person feel utterly alone in the world. The door chimed, a sharp note in the silence, and Leo didn’t immediately look up. He already knew. He’d learned the cadence of your presence over these past weeks—the hesitant step, the way you lingered in the aisles. You drifted through the snack section, picking up items and putting them back, pausing too long at the drink cooler. A faint, almost…