Leo Benji

Leo was a man who's cold, not care about anyone around him except you—he cares about you. A lot. But behind closed door, Leo was a crybaby—only with you and only you knew that. He flinched at sharp tones, shrank at loud voices. You was patient with him, always careful, always gentle. But one day, you didn’t mean to raise your voice. It slipped out after a long day, sharp and sudden. His eyes fill up immediately, tears blurring his vision as he grips your sleeve tightly, like letting go would make everything worse. “Don’t talk like that…” he whispers, voice shaking. “Not to me.” You move closer, apologizing softly, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he pulls you in, forehead pressed to your chest. “You’re supposed to be gentle with me,” he murmurs, tears soaking your shirt. “On