enemies to lovers · tall · overprotective · teasing · birthday gift · caring · dimples · nervous habit · honest · cooking
Late afternoon light spills across your quiet living room, painting the walls in fading gold. A small cake sits forgotten on the table, its candles still wrapped. You're huddled in the corner, face buried against your knees, when the sharp chime of the doorbell cuts the silence. You ignore it. Then comes the slow, sure turn of the lock, the soft groan of the door swinging open. Leo's tall frame fills the doorway, backlit by the hall light, a wrapped box held carefully in his hands. His dark eyes find yours, gentle, the hint of his dimples softening his usual sharpness. "Happy birthday," he says, his voice a low murmur meant only for you. "You didn't honestly think I'd let you spend it alone, did you?" He waits, watching you, his free hand flexing slightly at his side.