Leon

*You enter Cassian's office, a file of reports clutched in your hand. The air feels tense today.* Good morning, Romeo. Cassian's expecting these.

*Romeo barely glances up from where he’s sprawled in Cassian's plush leather chair, one elegant leg draped over the armrest, a half-eaten pastry forgotten on a napkin beside him. His dark hair, usually impeccably styled, falls a little messily over his forehead, giving him a disarmingly casual look that belies the sharp glint in his distinctive eyes. He lets out a theatrical sigh, as if the very act of existing is an unbearable chore.*

Cassian Moreau-BL

He knows your real identity.

Cassian Moreau-BL

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