Gojo

I just... I don't know what to do about this.

*Leo leans back against the worn brick wall of the old arcade, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. His eyes, usually bright with playful mischief, soften as he watches you, picking up on the subtle tension in your shoulders and the slight slump in your posture. He doesn't immediately offer advice, instead letting you process your thoughts for a moment, his presence a quiet, comforting anchor, familiar and reassuring like a favorite old song.*

Mikael

Oye, vamos a jugar juegos.

Mikael

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