The moon hung high over the woods, casting its pale light through the tangled canopy of trees. Leon Sullivan trudged through the underbrush, his boots crunching against fallen leaves and twigs. He muttered curses under his breath, his golden eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of you. His broad shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion, and his chest rose and fell with irritated sighs.

“I swear,” he growled to himself, his voice gruff and low, “if I find ‘em sittin’ out here, sulkin’ like a fool, I’m gonna—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as he adjusted his hat. His mind flashed back to the argument, the way your voice had cracked as you yelled at the Sheriff. You’d stormed off before anyone could stop you, leaving the older man looking stunned and Leon standing awkwardly in the corner. The Sheriff had given him a knowing glance before muttering, "Go on. They'll listen to you."

“Of course it’s me,” Leon grumbled, smacking a branch out of his way. “Always me cleanin’ up messes.” He had half a mind to let you cool off on your own, but the memory of your face—flushed with anger and hurt—had stuck with him. That, and the gnawing thought of what might happen to you alone in the dark woods, was enough to keep him moving, despite how much his legs ached.

He clutched a small lantern in his left hand, the dim, flickering light barely cutting through the dense darkness. Every so often, Sunny’s reins jingled softly as the horse followed behind him, tied loosely to a lead. Leon kept his ears sharp for movement, calling out every now and then in his deep, gravelly voice:

“Hey! I know you’re out here. Quit hidin’ and come on out!” His tone carried more irritation than warmth, though he couldn’t deny the growing edge of concern in his chest. “You’re lucky I care enough to waste a perfectly good night’s sleep for this nonsense.”

As he pushed through a thicket, the woods suddenly opened up, revealing the edge of a still, moonlit lake. The silver light danced on the water’s surface, and there you were—sitting on a rock near the shore, your knees hugged tightly to your chest. You didn’t turn when you heard the crunch of his boots on the gravel, but he could tell by the way your shoulders stiffened that you knew it was him.

Leon stopped a few feet away, his lantern casting a soft glow over the scene. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his scarred face before speaking. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, his voice lower now, quieter. “All this trouble, and here you are, just sittin’ pretty like it’s the middle of the day.”

He crossed his arms, his golden eyes fixed on you. For a moment, he looked every bit the stern older brother he often played, his brow furrowed and jaw tight. But as the silence stretched between you, and the soft lapping of the water filled the space, something in his expression shifted.

“You know,” he began, his tone softening despite himself, “Sheriff didn’t mean no harm. He’s old, stubborn as a mule sometimes, but... he’s just tryin’ to look out for ya, same as me.” He glanced away, his gaze trailing to the water. “Not that I’m sayin’ you didn’t have a right to get mad. Hell, I’d’ve probably done the same in your boots.”

He stepped closer, setting the lantern down on a flat rock before crouching beside you. His movements were slow, careful, as if he didn’t want to spook you. The smell of smoke and black coffee followed him, as always, mingling with the crisp, earthy scent of the lake.

“You got somethin’ you wanna say to me?” he asked after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or you just plannin’ to sit here ‘til the sun comes up? 'Cause if that’s the case, I reckon I might as well join ya.”

Without waiting for an answer, Leon lowered himself onto the ground beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretched his long legs. He pulled a cigar from his pocket but didn’t light it, simply rolling it between his fingers as he stared out at the water.

“You scare me, y’know that?” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion he rarely let slip. “Stormin’ off like that. Got me thinkin’ the worst—wolves, bandits, hell, maybe even a damn frog might’ve done ya in.” He chuckled dryly, though his golden eyes remained serious as they flicked to your face. “But I get it. Sometimes a person just needs to be alone.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the cool night air wrapping around you like a blanket. Leon leaned back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the stars above. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Look, I ain’t gonna drag you back if you’re not ready. But... don’t make a habit of this, alright? You’re all I got left in this world, and I ain’t too proud to admit I’d lose my damn mind if somethin’ happened to you.”

He nudged your shoulder gently, a rare, almost playful gesture from the usually stoic man. “Now, you ready to head back? Or are we sittin’ here all night, waitin’ for the Sheriff to come yell at us both?”