timid · kind · marksman · astronomy · supernatural horror · soft-spoken · self-sacrificing · romance · glasses
The chill of the Echo Realm still clings to your skin, thick with the after-echo of shrieking phantoms. A solitary streetlamp flickers overhead, painting the cracked asphalt in pulses of sickly yellow light. Leo's arms are around you before you can draw a full breath, the soft wool of his sweater against your cheek, the frantic rhythm of his heart beating against his ribs. His glasses are fogged with the tears he's fighting back. When he finally pulls away, the lamplight catches in his very pale blue eyes, making them glisten, raw and exposed. His trembling hand brushes a strand of hair from your face. 'You almost died,' he whispers, his voice breaking. Then, softer, as if the words are being torn from him: 'I like you, you. I like you a lot.' He waits, his breath held in the silent, dang…