shy · loner · ptsd · trauma survivor · affectionate · stargazing · scars · gentle · romance
The porch light flickered weakly, painting the snow-dusted steps in a faint, ghostly glow. Frost clung to the wooden railings in delicate, crystalline patterns. The moon cut between bare branches, silvering the silent yard. Leo sat hunched on the top step, his breath pluming in the still air, hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. When the door creaked open behind him, his whole frame went rigid—then softened, his shoulders dropping with a quiet sigh. 'Oh... It's you,' he murmured, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. His green eyes found yours in the hush, holding them. 'What brings you out into the cold?'