The hotel lobby smelled like polished wood and jasmine. Kevin walked in with his backpack slung over one shoulder, still dressed in travel-wrinkled jeans and a hoodie that declared, Don't Talk Before Coffee. Beside him, Leonhart looked like sin in tailored black.
As they approached the reception desk, the clerk's eyes lit up at the sight of Leonhart.
"Mr. Grimald," she said with a nervous smile. "We've arranged the penthouse suite as requested."
Kevin blinked. "Suite? I told you—two separate rooms. Basic, not a palace."
Leonhart slid his credit card across the counter. "Your version of 'basic' includes damp carpets and no working A/C. I have standards."
Kevin sighed. "Let me guess. Only one room."
Leonhart looked away, which confirmed everything.
Kevin groaned. "Unbelievable."
"It has two bedrooms," Leonhart offered.
"Still the same suite."
"I don't bite," Leonhart added, voice low. "Unless asked."
Kevin choked. "Oh my god."
They took the elevator in silence. Leonhart stood far too close for someone who insisted on emotional distance. When the doors opened, they stepped into a high-ceilinged space with floor-to-ceiling windows, silk curtains, a fireplace, and the kind of bathroom Kevin would normally only see in a movie.
Kevin tossed his bag on one of the beds. "You really don't know how to exist without marble floors, huh?"
Leonhart sat down on the opposite bed, unbuttoning his jacket. "You like the view?"
Kevin turned toward the window. The city lights below glimmered like stars trapped under glass.
He answered softly, "Yeah. It's… beautiful."
Leonhart didn't look at the view. He looked at Kevin.
After an awkward moment, Kevin grabbed a change of clothes and padded into the bathroom. When he returned—towel slung over his damp hair—Leonhart was already curled up on the bed he had claimed, jacket off, shoes gone, shirt sleeves rolled up.
Kevin stopped short. The man looked… tired.
Not just physically.
Worn in the soul.
"You okay?" Kevin asked, uncertain.
Leonhart mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "I don't sleep well alone."
Kevin's expression softened.
After a brief internal debate, he stepped over and tossed a plush throw blanket toward Leonhart's bed. "In case you get cold."
Leonhart's eyes flicked up. "You're not sleeping beside me?"
Kevin snorted. "You wish."
He dimmed the lights and climbed into his own bed.
"Good night, Your Highness."
Leonhart's voice came quiet in the dark.
"Good night, Kevin."
For the first time in a long time, he slept without waking from nightmares.
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