The sun was low over the academy grounds, casting long shadows across the training field. Daniel had been practicing solo—his movements precise, calculating, every step measured. But something in the air felt different today.
He didn't notice it at first. Not until a soft shadow fell over him.
"You've been working hard," Leo said casually, stepping beside him. Hands in his pockets, expression calm but eyes scanning, sharp as ever.
Daniel froze mid-movement. "I—what are you doing here?"
Leo shrugged lightly. "Watching. Making sure you don't overdo it."
Daniel's chest tightened. "I don't need—"
"You do," Leo interrupted gently, but not harshly. "Even if you don't admit it."
Daniel exhaled slowly, trying to steady the sudden heat rising in his chest. He returned to his footwork, ignoring the subtle brush of presence beside him.
The next drill required speed and balance. Daniel launched forward, focusing entirely on the course. But midway through, a smaller, faster trainee zipped past, nearly colliding with him.
Before Daniel could react fully, Leo's hand shot out, grazing Daniel's elbow—just enough to nudge him aside. Daniel stumbled slightly, heart racing.
"You okay?" Leo asked softly.
"I'm fine," Daniel muttered, though his pulse refused to slow.
"You should slow down," Leo said, almost teasing, but with that careful undertone Daniel couldn't ignore. "You're making it too easy for yourself to get hurt."
Daniel's jaw clenched. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge."
Leo's smirk was faint but noticeable. "I know. That's the problem."
Later, they moved to partner drills. Daniel tried to focus, keeping his posture strong, his movements precise. But Leo matched him step for step, not aggressively, not forcefully, just… intentionally present.
Every time Daniel pivoted, Leo mirrored him. Every time Daniel reached forward, Leo's hand was just a breath away, guiding subtly, adjusting without comment.
Daniel's chest felt tight, heat rising with each accidental contact. His suppressor hummed faintly, a reminder that he was straddling the edge of control.
"You move like you're dancing," Leo said quietly during a brief pause.
Daniel blinked. "I—what?"
"You shift, adapt, and anticipate," Leo explained, voice low. "It's impressive. And… distracting."
Daniel's heart thudded. "Distracting?"
Leo's lips curved into the faintest smirk. "To me."
Daniel looked away sharply, trying to ignore the flush creeping across his face.
The final part of the drill involved retrieving markers scattered across the field. Daniel and Leo moved together, coordinated without needing words. Daniel noticed, with a mix of irritation and fascination, how Leo subtly positioned himself to protect Daniel—not in an obvious way, but just enough that every potential bump, every misstep, every reckless trainee was kept at a safe distance.
A faint brush of hands as they reached for the same marker sent a jolt through Daniel's body. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay composed.
Leo glanced at him, calm, eyes unreadable, and for just a second, Daniel felt the world narrow down to that gaze, that presence.
"You're good at hiding," Leo murmured.
Daniel swallowed. "I've had practice."
Leo smirked again, almost teasing, almost gentle. "Not from me, though."
Daniel's heartbeat skipped. "Not from… anyone?"
"You're the first," Leo said quietly, voice soft but firm.
Daniel froze, heat pooling in his chest. He wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. His mind spun with confusion, disbelief, and something else—something he wasn't ready to admit.
Leo stepped back, giving Daniel a fraction of space, but his presence lingered like a shadow, protective and teasing all at once.
By the time training ended, Daniel was exhausted—but not just physically. Mentally, emotionally, he felt stretched, pulled, and entirely aware of every movement Leo made.
Mika and Ryo were waiting at the sidelines, smirking knowingly. "You look like you just ran a marathon… and lost it," Mika said.
Daniel groaned. "Shut up."
Ryo chuckled. "Don't lie to yourself. You're flustered. And that's before anyone even mentions what Leo's doing."
Daniel's jaw tightened. "He's… being careful. That's all."
Mika raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, careful… while making you melt. Sure, all innocent."
Daniel didn't respond. He simply pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the faint hum of his suppressor, aware that each small gesture, each subtle touch, was making his control tremble.
And somewhere deep down, he knew: Leo wasn't just teasing. He was protecting. Playfully. Intentionally.
And Daniel… hated how much he liked it.