Plans, Promises, and a Window's Goodbye
Another hour went by, and the bathroom door creaked open once more.
A gentle hiss of steam curled out as Leon entered the room, now wearing his trademark black-and-gold robe. The material fell over him with effortless sophistication, each fold sharp, each edge pristine. His wet hair had been smoothed back tidily, accentuating the dramatic sharpness of his jawline and the serene intensity of his golden eyes. He straightened the collar with a quick wave of his hand, his actions fluid, dignified—just like the man himself.
Sona appeared a few moments later.
