detective · introverted · awkward · intelligent · romance · slow burn · workplace setting · shy · dry wit
A biting wind whips through the skeletal branches of the old oak beside the porch. A delicate crust of frost glazes the wooden railing where Leo leans, his breath puffing into ragged, silver clouds. He watches you from the edge of his vision, the overcast sky softening the usual sharp angles of his jaw and brow. When his voice finally cuts through the cold, it's low, almost stolen by the gust. "Gorgeous morning, isn't it? Bitter cold, but gorgeous." He winces internally, his cheeks already burning with more than the chill. His fingers worry at a loose thread on his coat sleeve before he risks a direct look, hoping the sheer, aching admiration isn't plastered plainly across his face. "I... um, would you want to stay out here with me a little while longer?"