LEON
I wake up with an unfamiliar feeling in my chest. It’s a strange lightness, and I refuse to admit that it’s a pleasant feeling. I force myself through my routine, splashing cold water on my face and aggressively shutting down any lingering thoughts of last night. The way she cried. The way she pressed her lips to my cheek. The truce. Things are obviously going to be different between us now, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to navigate it.
I head down to the car to wait for her, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. When she finally steps out of the building, my breath catches. I expect her to pull open the back door like she’s done every single day for the past two months. Instead, the passenger door clicks open and she slides into the front seat right beside me.
Her
